u/Kirkbers

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Chapter 11: What You Didn't Say

Lamis moved.

One moment Utari was straddling her lap, desperate and denied, and the next she was being flipped onto the back seat like a doll. Her back hit the leather with a soft thud. Lamis repositioned her with efficient, practiced hands—lifting her hips, angling her body so she faced the rear window.

"What are you—"

"Shh." Lamis slid off the seat and knelt on the floor mat, pulling Utari's hips toward the edge. "You wanted to know what I was doing to you? Let me show you."

Her skirt was already bunched around her waist. Lamis hooked her fingers in the thin strip of fabric covering her and pulled it aside—not off, just out of the way. Utari felt exposed. Wet air kissed her most private places.

Then Lamis's mouth was on her.

Not her pussy. Lower.

"Oh God—" Utari's hands flew back, gripping the headrest of the front seat. "That's—you can't—"

Lamis's tongue traced a slow circle around her asshole. The sensation was foreign and wrong and made her entire body clench. Nobody had ever touched her there. Not Mark. Not anyone before.

"You taste so fucking good here." Lamis's voice vibrated against her skin. "Sweet and clean and desperate."

Her tongue pressed forward. The tight ring of muscle resisted for a moment, then yielded. Utari's mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

"That's it." Lamis pulled back just enough to speak, her breath hot against the wetness she'd left behind. "Relax for me. Let me in."

Her thumb found Utari's clit at the same time her tongue pushed deeper. The dual sensation was overwhelming—being penetrated in a place that felt forbidden while her most sensitive spot was stroked in tight, devastating circles.

Utari couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Her body had been on edge since the first red light, since Lamis had first kissed her at that intersection, and now every nerve was firing at once.

She opened her eyes.

The rear window showed the parking lot, still dotted with students making their way inside. She recognized some of them. Sarah from her English class, laughing with her boyfriend. Tyler, one of Mark's friends, scrolling on his phone while he walked.

Normal people living normal lives.

And here she was, legs spread in the back seat of her sister's car, being devoured like a feast.

"Please—" The word tore out of her. "Please, I can't—"

"You can." Lamis's tongue fucked into her deeper. "You will."

The pressure was building. That same tension from the red light, multiplied a hundred times. Her thighs were shaking. Her fingers ached from gripping the headrest so hard.

She looked at the window again.

More students walking by. More silhouettes through tinted glass. More people who would die if they knew what was happening five feet away.

Something inside her cracked.

It wasn't just the pleasure—though that was overwhelming, drowning her in sensation she'd never felt before. It was the contrast. The before and after. The girl she used to be and the girl she'd become.

Two years ago, she'd been certain of everything. Her faith. Her future. Her place in the world.

Now she couldn't even say whose body this was anymore.

"Why?" The word came out broken. Wet.

Lamis didn't stop. Her tongue kept moving, kept pushing, kept claiming.

Utari felt the tears before she realized she was crying. Not from pain. Not exactly. From everything. From the pleasure that wouldn't stop and the shame that wouldn't leave and the desperate, hopeless feeling of losing herself completely.

"Why can't you be normal?" She was sobbing now, her body still trembling toward orgasm while her mind fractured apart. "Why can't we—why can't we go on double dates with Mark and some boy you're dating? Why can't we be normal sisters?"

Her voice cracked on the last word.

"We used to braid each other's hair. We used to gossip about boys and talk about our futures and—I wanted to be you when we were kids, Lamis. I worshipped you. And now—"

Lamis pulled back.

For one blessed moment, the stimulation stopped. Utari gasped for air, her body still quivering on the edge, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But Lamis didn't answer.

Instead, she bent her head again. Her tongue found Utari's asshole once more. Her thumb pressed harder on her clit. The rhythm increased—faster, rougher, demanding.

"Please—please answer me—"

The orgasm that had been building since the red light finally crashed over her.

It hit her in waves. Her entire body seized, back arching off the seat, thighs clamping around Lamis's head. She covered her mouth with both hands, but the scream still escaped—a raw, broken sound that the tinted windows mercifully contained.

She squirted.

It wasn't a little. It was a flood, soaking the leather beneath her, dripping onto the floor mat. Her underwear was still pulled aside—Lamis had prepared for this—and she'd be able to pull it back into place, walk into school with her secret hidden between her legs.

But in this moment, all she could do was shake.

Lamis finally stopped. She pressed a kiss to Utari's inner thigh and stood, sliding onto the seat beside her. Strong arms gathered her close, pulling her into an embrace that felt almost tender.

Utari's face found Lamis's chest. Her tears soaked through the thin cotton crop top. She felt wrung out, emptied, used in ways she couldn't name.

They stayed like that for long minutes.

The parking lot emptied. The bell didn't ring—they'd missed it. Neither moved.

Utari's breathing slowly steadied. The trembling faded to occasional aftershocks. Her body felt heavy, limp, completely surrendered.

Eventually, Lamis spoke.

"You followed me everywhere when we were little."

Her voice was soft. Different from the cruel, commanding tone she used during sex.

"Everywhere," she repeated. "Like a lost puppy. You wanted to do everything I did. Wear what I wore. Like what I liked."

Utari didn't lift her head. "I know."

"We were inseparable. You'd crawl into my bed at night because you had nightmares. You'd hold my hand walking to school. You'd wait by the window for me to come home."

A shaky breath. "And then you came out."

"And then I came out." Lamis's fingers traced patterns on Utari's arm. "And you never looked at me the same again."

The words hung between them.

"I wanted things to go back to how they were," Utari whispered. "Before you told them. Before everything changed."

"So did I."

She finally looked up. Lamis's face was unreadable in the dim light.

"You did?"

"I'd trade anything." Lamis's voice was steady. "Anything. For things to go back to how they were. When you followed me around like a shadow. When you loved me without question."

Utari's heart clenched.

"Then why—"

"Because I can't change what I am. And you can't change how you feel about it." Lamis cupped her face, thumb brushing away a tear. "This is the only way I know how to keep you close."

"That's—"

"Twisted? Wrong?" A sad smile. "Probably. But it's what we have."

Lamis leaned in.

Her lips hovered a breath away from Utari's. Not demanding. Not claiming. Asking.

Utari's breath caught. Her body leaned forward on its own.

The bell rang.

The sharp sound shattered the moment. Utari jerked back, scrambling off the seat, reaching for the door handle.

"I have to—Mark will—I need to—"

She tumbled out of the car, legs immediately giving out beneath her.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the pavement. Lamis held her upright, steadying her until she found her footing.

"Take a breath."

Utari obeyed. Then pulled away.

"I have to go."

She turned toward the school building. Started walking. Her thighs were sore, her underwear damp, her mind a battlefield.

"Utari."

She didn't turn around.

"You ran," Lamis called after her. "But you didn't say no."

Her steps faltered.

"I'll see you at home tonight. We can talk more then. Or do more." A pause. "Whatever you want."

Utari kept walking.

The school doors loomed ahead. Normal life waited inside. Mark. Classes. The pretense of being someone she wasn't anymore.

She pushed through the doors.

The hallway swallowed her up.

But even as she blended into the crowd, even as she spotted Mark waiting by her locker with a worried expression, she knew the truth.

She hadn't wanted Lamis to stop.

She didn't really want this to end.

And that scared her more than anything else.

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Chapter 10: Parking Lot Confessions

Utari couldn't move.

Her body felt like it belonged to someone else—boneless, trembling, still throbbing from the denial Lamis had left her with. The parking lot stretched before them, full of cars and students and normal people living normal lives, while she sat in the passenger seat with her thighs slick and her pulse racing.

"Twenty minutes," Lamis said, checking her phone. "Before first bell."

Utari's stomach dropped. "We should go inside. I need to—I need to find Mark—"

"Mark can wait." Lamis unbuckled her seatbelt. The click echoed through the car like a gunshot. "Climb into the back."

"What?" Utari's voice cracked. "Here? Now? People are—"

"Back seat. Now."

The command settled into Utari's chest like a stone. Her hands moved before her brain could catch up, reaching for the door handle, sliding out of the passenger side. The morning air hit her bare legs—cool against the heat still radiating between her thighs. She felt exposed. Wrong. Like everyone could see what she'd just done, what she was about to do.

She opened the back door and slid onto the leather seat. The interior smelled like cedar and sin. Like every memory she'd tried to bury.

Lamis climbed in from the other side, closing the door behind her with a soft thunk. The tinted windows cast everything in a strange, dim light—the world outside reduced to shapes and shadows. Students walked past, laughing, carrying backpacks, completely unaware of what was happening behind the dark glass.

"Straddle me."

Utari's breath caught. "Lamis—"

"Did I stutter?"

She didn't. She never did. That was the problem.

Utari shifted, lifting one knee, then the other, until she was settled in Lamis's lap. Her skirt bunched up around her hips, barely covering anything. The denim of Lamis's jeans pressed against her inner thighs—rough and real and impossible to ignore.

"Good girl." Lamis's hands found her waist, steadying her. "Now be quiet and let me kiss you."

Their lips met.

Not hungry. Not desperate. Nothing like the brutal kisses at the traffic lights. This was slower. Deliberate. Lamis's mouth moved against hers like she had all the time in the world, like twenty minutes stretched into infinity. Her tongue slid past Utari's lips, exploring, tasting, claiming.

Utari's hands found Lamis's shoulders. She told herself it was to push away. Her fingers gripped the cotton of that crop top instead, pulling closer.

Two months of this. Two months of her body betraying every principle she'd been raised on. Two months of fighting a war inside her own skull—and losing.

Lamis's hands slid down from her waist. Cupped her ass through the thin fabric of her skirt. Squeezed.

Utari whimpered into the kiss.

"Mmm." Lamis pulled back just enough to speak, lips still brushing against hers. "You like that, baby sis? Like it when I grab your ass while everyone walks by outside?"

"Someone could see—"

"Tinted windows. No one can see shit." Lamis's fingers dug deeper, massaging the flesh. "Besides, you're quiet when you need to be. Most of the time."

A group of girls walked past the car, chatting animatedly about some test they had later. Utari froze, heart hammering, watching their silhouettes through the glass.

They had no idea.

The thought sent a sick thrill through her stomach.

"You're thinking too much." Lamis's mouth moved to her neck—pressing open-mouthed kisses along her pulse point. "I can feel it. That brain of yours spinning and spinning."

"I can't help it." Utari's voice came out strangled. "I was raised to believe this was wrong. That you were wrong. That everything we do is—"

"Sinful?" Lamis's teeth grazed her throat. "Disgusting? An abomination?"

"Yes." The word came out breathless. "All of it."

"And yet here you are." Lamis's hands slid under her skirt, gripping bare skin now. "Soaking through your underwear. Grinding down on my lap like the desperate little thing you are."

Utari hadn't even realized she was moving. Her hips had started rocking on their own, seeking friction, seeking anything to ease the ache between her legs.

"Fuck."

"That's the idea." Lamis's voice was low. Amused. "You're getting better at admitting what you want."

"I don't want this."

"Your body says otherwise." Lamis's fingers traced higher, sliding under the band of her underwear. "Your pussy's been wet since we pulled out of the driveway. Probably since last night, if I'm being honest."

"Please stop talking like that—"

"Like what? Telling the truth?" Lamis's mouth found her ear. "You came so hard last night you blacked out. And instead of feeling satisfied, you woke up needing more. That's why you're here. That's why you always end up here."

Utari wanted to argue. Wanted to push away, open the door, walk into school and pretend she was normal.

Instead, she tilted her head, giving Lamis better access to her neck.

"Your whore mouth," Utari whispered. "You have such a fucking whore mouth."

"Coming from the girl riding her sister's lap in a school parking lot." Lamis bit down on her earlobe. "That's rich."

The pleasure-pain made Utari gasp.

"You know what I think?" Lamis's fingers crept lower, sliding toward the cleft of her ass. "I think you're finally starting to accept it."

"Accept what?"

"That this is who you are." Lamis's middle finger pressed against her asshole. "Not straight. Not normal. Mine."

The pressure made Utari's breath hitch. "I'm not—I have a boyfriend—"

"Who can't find your clit with a map and a flashlight." Lamis pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Just the tip. Just enough. "Who's never made you come once in all the months you've been together."

"He's—he's nice—"

"Nice doesn't make you squirt." Lamis's finger sank deeper. "Nice doesn't leave you shaking and crying and begging for more."

Utari's nails dug into Lamis's shoulders. The stretch was familiar now—two months of training—but it still made her body tense. Still made her feel violated and full and impossibly, horribly aroused.

"You're so fucking tight." Lamis groaned against her throat. "Even after all this time. Such a good little anal slut for your sister."

"Stop calling me that—"

"Why? It's true." A second finger joined the first. "You love having things in your ass. My fingers. My toys. You came so hard when I fucked you with Ben last night, remember?"

Utari remembered. She remembered everything. Every thrust, every stretch, every moment of being filled so completely that her brain shut off and her body took over.

"Your brain's getting quieter," Lamis murmured. "I can tell. You used to fight so hard. Now you just take it."

"I hate you."

"I know." Lamis's fingers started moving. Pumping slowly. "But you love what I do to you more."

The pleasure side was winning.

Utari could feel it happening—that slow erosion of everything she'd believed about herself. Two months ago, she'd been certain. Sure of her sexuality. Sure of her morality. Sure that Lamis was everything wrong with their family.

Now she sat in a car, fingers buried in her ass, arousal dripping down her thighs, and the only thing she was sure about was that she didn't want it to stop.

Her phone buzzed.

The sound cut through the haze. Both of them froze.

Utari's eyes flew open. She fumbled for her phone, still clutched in her hand, and saw the name on the screen.

Mark.

"Shit." Her voice went thin. "It's Mark. I have to—he's probably wondering where I am—"

"Answer it."

"What? No! Not while you're—"

"Answer it." Lamis's voice left no room for argument. "Be a good girlfriend and tell him you'll be late."

Utari's hand shook as she accepted the call. She pressed the phone to her ear, trying to slow her breathing, trying to pretend her sister's fingers weren't buried inside her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe!" Mark's voice was bright. Oblivious. "You coming inside? I saved you a seat in calc."

"I—yeah, I'm just—" Lamis's fingers curled, finding a spot that made her vision blur. "I'm running a little late. Lamis needed to—needed to talk to me about something."

"Your sister? She's there with you?"

Utari looked down at Lamis. Who was smirking. Who'd stopped kissing her but hadn't stopped moving her fingers.

"Yeah. She drove me today."

"That's... nice, I guess? Didn't know you two were close."

Lamis's free hand slid under Utari's shirt. Found her bra. Pushed it up.

"We're—ah—" Utari's voice broke as Lamis's fingers brushed her nipple. Already hard. Already aching. "We're getting better."

"Everything okay? You sound weird."

"Fine! I'm fine. Just—" Lamis's mouth closed around her nipple. Hot and wet and devastating. "Just tired."

Lamis's tongue swirled. Her teeth scraped. Her fingers in Utari's ass matched the rhythm of her mouth—slow, deliberate, cruel.

"You sure?" Mark's voice was laced with concern. "You've been distracted lately. Is everything okay with us?"

"Yes, Mark. Everything's perfect."

Lamis bit down. Hard.

"Fuck—" Utari's hand flew to her mouth. "I mean—fudge. I meant fudge."

"Did you just say fudge?"

"I'm—I'm hungry. For breakfast. Which I didn't eat."

Lamis sucked harder, her fingers twisting inside, pressing against that spot that made Utari's whole body sing.

"Okay, well, hurry up. I miss you."

"I miss you too." The words felt like ash in her mouth. "I'll be there soon."

"Love you."

Utari's eyes met Lamis's. Dark. Possessive. Knowing.

"You too. Bye."

She hung up.

The moment the call ended, Lamis pulled her fingers out. Pulled her mouth away. Left Utari gasping and empty and desperate.

"Good girl," Lamis said, licking her fingers clean. "That was convincing."

"I hate you." Utari's voice shook. "I fucking hate you so much."

"But you're still here." Lamis's hands settled on her hips. "Still straddling me. Still dripping all over my jeans."

Utari looked down. Lamis's lap was dark with her arousal. The evidence of her betrayal—of her desire—soaked into the fabric.

"I should go inside." The words had no strength behind them. "Mark's waiting. I have class. I have—"

"Go then."

Lamis didn't move her hands. Didn't help her off. Just sat there, waiting, watching.

Utari's legs wouldn't cooperate. Her body refused to lift.

"That's what I thought." Lamis pulled her down for another kiss. Slow and deep and claiming. "Your boyfriend can wait. Your classes can wait. Everything can wait."

"Except you."

"Except me." Lamis's hand slid between them. Found her clit through the soaked fabric of her underwear. "Because you're mine, Utari. You've been mine since the first time I touched you. And you'll keep being mine until you admit it."

Utari's hips jerked forward, chasing the pressure.

"I'm not—"

"Say it."

"I can't—"

"Say you're mine."

The words caught in her throat. The last barrier. The final piece of herself she still controlled.

Outside, the parking lot was thinning. Students disappearing into the building. The bell would ring soon.

Lamis's fingers pressed harder. Circled faster.

"I'm—"

"That's it, baby sis. Almost there."

Utari's head fell back. Her thighs trembled. The pleasure was building again, that familiar tension coiling low in her belly.

"I'm yours."

The confession ripped out of her. Desperate. Defeated. True.

Lamis's hand stopped.

"You're mine what?"

"Yours—yours to fuck. Yours to use. Yours to—" Utari's voice cracked. "Yours to ruin."

"Good girl."

Lamis removed her hand.

Utari sobbed.

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Chapter 9: Red Light Rules

The car sat in the driveway like a loaded gun.

Utari stared at it from the front porch, keys dangling from her fingers, and felt her pulse kick up. Just the sight of Lamis's sedan—dark windows, sleek black body—made heat bloom low in her belly. Two months of memories lived in that car. Two months of being bent over seats and pushed against doors and fucked until she forgot her own name.

"You coming or what?"

Lamis's voice cut through her thoughts. She stood at the driver's side, crop top riding up her stomach, denim jeans hugging her hips. Her short hair was still messy from the night—Utari's fingers had been in it less than eight hours ago. The thought made her face burn.

"Stop staring at me like that," Utari muttered, forcing her legs to move. "Someone will see."

Lamis just smiled. That knowing smile. The one that said I know exactly what you're remembering right now.

"Get in the car, Utari."

She did.

The interior smelled like Lamis. That specific blend of cedar and something darker—sweat and sex and want. Utari's body responded before her mind could catch up, thighs pressing together as she sank into the passenger seat. The leather was cool against the back of her bare legs, her skirt riding up as she sat.

She tugged it down. Pointless.

Lamis slid into the driver's seat and glanced over. Her eyes dragged from Utari's face down to her lap, then back up again. Slow. Appreciative. Hungry.

"Beige looks good on you." Her voice was casual, but her gaze was anything but. "Makes you look all innocent. Untouched."

"I am untouched," Utari shot back weakly.

"Sure you are." Lamis started the car. "That's why you're already blushing and we haven't even left the driveway."

Utari turned to face the window. "Just drive."

The engine purred to life, and they pulled onto the street. Morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the dashboard. Their neighborhood was quiet—families eating breakfast, kids catching buses, the normal rhythm of a Tuesday morning.

Nothing about this was normal.

Utari's fingers dug into her thighs. She couldn't look at the backseat. Couldn't think about the first time Lamis had pushed her down onto those seats, two months ago, and introduced her to Ben. The stretch. The fullness. The way she'd sobbed when Lamis finally let her come after what felt like hours of being edged.

"What are you thinking about?"

Lamis's voice was too casual. Utari glanced over and caught her sister's smirk.

"Nothing."

"Your breathing says otherwise." Lamis adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "Let me guess—the backseat?"

"Shut up."

"Or maybe the time I made you squirt all over this leather?" Lamis's voice dropped lower. "You didn't even know your body could do that. Looked so fucking pretty when it happened, too. Eyes rolled back, mouth open, soaking my hand like a desperate little—"

"I said shut up." Utari's voice cracked.

Lamis laughed. Actually laughed. Bright and genuine and utterly unconcerned.

"Your boyfriend ever make you squirt, Utari?"

"You know he doesn't."

"Has he even made you come? Once?"

The question hung in the air. Utari's silence was answer enough.

"That's what I thought." Lamis shook her head. "Pathetic. He has a whole woman at his disposal and can't even find her clit. Meanwhile, I had you screaming my name after two weeks."

"It's been two months," Utari whispered. "Two months of... this. Of you using me whenever you want."

"Using you?" Lamis's eyebrow arched. "Is that what you think this is?"

"What else would you call it?"

Lamis didn't answer. Instead, she slowed the car as they approached the first traffic light. Red.

Utari's stomach dropped.

The Rule.

She'd almost forgotten. Almost. But her body hadn't—her heart rate spiked the moment she saw that red glow, pussy clenching around nothing as Lamis turned to face her.

"You know what happens at red lights, Utari."

"I—"

"Seat back."

The command was soft but absolute. Utari's hand moved before she could stop it, pressing the button that slid her seat back. More room. More space for Lamis to lean over, to cup her jaw, to pull her into a kiss that stole every thought from her head.

Lamis's lips met hers.

Soft at first. Almost gentle. Then Lamis's tongue swept into her mouth and gentleness vanished. The kiss turned hungry—claiming, consuming. Utari's hands found Lamis's shoulders, gripping the cotton of her crop top, trying to anchor herself as her sister devoured her.

Two months of this. Two months of red lights meaning Lamis's mouth on hers. Two months of being unable to refuse.

Not that she'd ever actually tried.

A horn blared behind them.

Lamis pulled back, eyes flicking to the now-green light. Her lips were swollen, wet. Utari's too—she could feel them, could taste Lamis on her tongue.

"Light changed," Lamis said, like she hadn't just kissed Utari breathless. She pulled forward smoothly, merging into traffic.

Utari sat frozen. Heart pounding. Body thrumming.

"Seven lights," Lamis murmured. "Seven lights between home and school. You think you can handle seven kisses, baby sis?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Never stopped you from enjoying it before."

The words cut deep. True. Horrifyingly true.

Utari turned back to the window, watching houses blur past. Every driveway, every parked car, every tree she memorized—they were all landmarks now. All mile markers in her descent into depravity.

That oak tree—Lamis had pulled over once, right there, and fucked her with two fingers until she'd bitten her own hand to muffle her screams.

That corner store—she'd been sent inside with Lamis's bite marks on her inner thighs, forced to smile at the cashier while her body still trembled.

That apartment complex—Lamis's ex lived there. They'd stopped once, just so Lamis could show her off. Look what I have waiting at home. Look what I get to fuck whenever I want.

"Second light coming," Lamis announced.

Utari's pulse jumped.

Red.

This time Lamis didn't wait. Her hand shot out, tangling in Utari's hair, yanking her close. The kiss was brutal—all teeth and tongue and ownership. Utari whimpered into it, hating herself for how wet she was getting.

"You're soaking through your panties," Lamis whispered against her mouth. "I can smell you."

"Please—"

"Please what? Please stop?" Lamis bit her lower lip. "Or please don't?"

The light changed.

Utari didn't answer.

They drove. The third light caught them—quick kiss, barely enough, leaving Utari gasping for more she'd never admit to wanting. The fourth light was green. Utari almost cried in relief.

The fifth light was red, and traffic was heavy.

Lamis took her time.

Her hand slid from the steering wheel to Utari's thigh, pushing up under her skirt. Calloused fingers traced the edge of her underwear, pressing against the damp fabric.

"You're so fucking wet," Lamis groaned into their kiss. "My sister's little pussy is dripping for me."

"Don't—" Utari panted. "Someone could see—"

"Tinted windows." Lamis's finger hooked under the fabric, sliding through her folds. "No one can see how desperate you are. How you spread your legs for your own sister."

A honk. Green light.

Lamis pulled her hand back and kept driving.

Utari wanted to scream.

Two more lights. Two more chances for Lamis to touch her, taste her, remind her of every filthy thing they'd done in this car. Her thighs trembled. Her pussy throbbed. Two months of conditioning, and now her body knew: car with Lamis meant getting used.

Sixth light. Red.

"Come here."

Lamis grabbed the back of Utari's neck and dragged her across the center console. The kiss was messy—desperate. Utari's fingers clutched at Lamis's crop top, feeling the warm skin underneath.

"Your boyfriend ever kiss you like this?" Lamis breathed.

"No—"

"Ever make you this wet?"

"God, no—"

"Ever make you feel this good?"

Utari whimpered. The light changed.

Lamis released her.

The final light was visible ahead, glowing red. Traffic had built up—they'd be sitting there for a while.

Lamis noticed. Her smile turned sharp.

"Last light, Utari. Better make it count."

She unbuckled her seatbelt.

"What are you—"

"Shh." Lamis leaned over, pressing Utari against the door. Her hand shoved up Utari's skirt again, yanking her panties aside. "Keep quiet. Don't want anyone outside to hear you."

Two fingers sank inside.

Utari's hand flew to her mouth, muffling the keen that escaped her throat. Lamis's fingers curled, finding that spot—the one that made her see stars.

"That's it," Lamis cooed, fucking her slowly. "Taking my fingers so well. Your pretty pussy's gripping me so tight."

"Please—please—"

"Please what? Please fuck you through this light?" Lamis's thumb pressed against her clit. "Please let you come in this car like you have a dozen times before?"

Cars passed. Pedestrians walked. The world moved around them, completely unaware.

Utari's eyes rolled back.

"Close," she gasped. "I'm close—"

Lamis pulled out.

The light turned green.

"No—" Utari sobbed. "No, please, I need—"

"Need what?" Lamis licked her fingers clean, eyes on the road. "Need your sister to make you come? Need to fall apart in this car like the desperate little slut you are?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Too bad."

She merged into the school parking lot.

Utari sat shaking, pussy aching, arousal dripping down her thighs. Her skin felt too tight. Her body felt empty.

Lamis parked the car.

They sat in silence.

Students passed by outside, laughing, talking, living normal lives. Utari watched them through the tinted windows, chest heaving.

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Chapter 8: Breakfast of Broken Promises

Utari couldn't look at her.

The table felt longer than usual, stretching between them like a canyon, and Utari fixed her gaze on her plate—scrambled eggs going cold, toast untouched—because if she looked up, if she met those sharp eyes across the breakfast table, she'd combust. Spontaneously ignite right there in their mother's kitchen chair, leaving nothing but ash and shame.

Her thighs ached. A deep, throbbing soreness that radiated from her core every time she shifted on the wooden seat. The cushion her mother had sewn last Christmas offered no relief. Nothing could relieve the feeling of being stretched, split open, hollowed out and filled again—

"You're not eating."

Her father's voice cut through the memory, and Utari startled so hard her fork clattered against ceramic.

"I'm fine," she managed, voice cracking. She cleared her throat. "Just tired. Didn't sleep well."

"Bad dreams?" Her mother frowned, setting down her own fork. "You look pale, honey. Maybe you're coming down with something."

Across the table, Lamis snorted into her orange juice.

Just one sound. Barely audible. But Utari heard it—felt it in her fucking bones—because she knew what that snort meant. Bad dreams. No, not bad dreams. Wet dreams. Dreams about fingers and tongues and silicone cocks and her sister's breath hot against her ear saying take it, take it all, you were made to take it—

"Probably just stress," Utari said quickly. "School stuff."

Her father grunted, returning to his newspaper. "You've been working too hard. Mark was saying yesterday you've been distracted lately."

The name hit her stomach. Mark. Sweet, oblivious Mark with his awkward fumbling and miss-and-miss attempts at finding her clit. Mark who thought three minutes of pumping constituted good sex. Mark who'd called last night while Lamis was—

She felt her face heat.

"He worries too much," she said weakly.

"He's a good boy." Her mother nodded approvingly. "Steady. Dependable. You could do worse, Utari. Have done worse, if we're being honest."

This was directed at Lamis, who leaned back in her chair with all the casual arrogance of someone who'd never once cared about their parents' approval. Short hair messy from sleep. Flannel pajama pants slung low on her hips. That self-satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"What?" Lamis spread her hands wide, innocence. "I'm not saying anything."

"You don't have to." Their father's voice had that edge—the disappointed edge that always surfaced during breakfast conversations about Lamis's life choices. "Your mother and I were discussing earlier... have you thought about what we said? About maybe meeting some new people?"

"New people." Lamis's tone was flat.

"Nice young men. Dr. Henderson's son is back from medical school—"

"Dad." Lamis groaned, dragging the word out. "We've been over this. I'm not interested in your friend's son."

"You don't know that until you try—"

"I know I'm gay, Dad. That's kind of the whole point."

The word hung in the air like a slap. Utari watched her mother's jaw tighten, watched her father's knuckles whiten around his coffee mug. The silence that followed was deafening—broken only by the tick of the grandfather clock in the living room and the distant hum of the refrigerator.

Her parents didn't accept Lamis's sexuality. They never had. In their conservative worldview, being gay ranked somewhere between unfortunate and unforgivable, a blemish on the family reputation they'd spent decades building. They'd tried therapy. They'd tried church. They'd tried everything short of disowning her, and Lamis had weathered it all with that infuriating smirk and an endless parade of girls brought home like trophies.

As if to prove a point, Utari thought bitterly. As if to say: you can hate me, but you can't stop me.

"Maybe if you just tried—" her mother started.

"Tried what?" Lamis cut in. "Tried not being a lesbian? Do you think I haven't? Do you think I haven't wished, every single day of my life, that I could be normal? That I could want what you want me to want?"

The rawness in her voice surprised Utari. She risked a glance up—just a flicker—and caught something flickering behind Lamis's carefully constructed mask. Something that looked almost like pain.

But then Lamis's eyes met hers.

And that smirk returned. Slow. Knowing. Full of memories Utari couldn't escape.

"Besides," Lamis said, her gaze still fixed on Utari, "I thought you guys liked Ashley."

The name dropped like a stone into still water.

"Ashley?" Their mother's brow furrowed. "The girl from yesterday?"

"The very same." Lamis took a casual sip of her juice. "Pretty little thing. Blonde. Great legs. She was over for a few hours before I came upstairs."

Before I came upstairs.

Before I came into your room.

Utari's stomach lurched. She remembered—vaguely, through the haze of last night's activities—hearing a door close. Footsteps in the hallway. Her own door opening less than a minute later.

Ashley had been in Lamis's bed. Or Lamis had been in Ashley. And then Lamis had kicked her out—or sent her home, or whatever—and come straight to Utari. Fresh from another girl. Hands and mouth still tasting of someone else.

The thought should have disgusted her.

Instead, her traitorous pussy clenched.

"She was... nice," their mother managed, tone strained. "Polite."

"She was fine." Lamis shrugged. "Eighth one this week, though. Starting to blur together."

Eight girls. In one week.

Their father's face had gone red. "Eight—you can't possibly think this is acceptable behavior—"

"I think it's fun." Lamis smiled—a sharp, dangerous thing. "Besides, variety is the spice of life. Right, Utari?"

Every eye turned to her.

Utari's mouth opened. Closed. She had no idea what to say—no idea how to participate in this conversation without revealing the roiling mess of her own complicity. Because she couldn't judge Lamis for sleeping around. Not when she was one of the people Lamis was sleeping with.

"Utari?" Her mother's voice was gentle. Concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been strange all morning."

I'm strange because your daughter fucked me unconscious last night.

"I'm fine," she repeated. Her voice sounded foreign. "Just... tired. Like I said."

"You've been tired a lot lately." Her father had set down his newspaper, watching her with that analytical gaze she hated. "Maybe you should see a doctor. Make sure it's not anemia or something."

"It's not anemia."

"Then what—"

"She's probably just worn out." Lamis's voice was casual. Light. "From all those late nights with Mark."

The implication was subtle enough that their parents missed it. But Utari heard it. Heard the way Lamis said late nights and Mark in the same breath, as if the two were connected, as if Mark was the reason she couldn't sit comfortably this morning.

He wasn't. He never had been.

"Speaking of which." Lamis leaned forward, elbows on the table—a posture their mother hated. "How is your boyfriend, Utari? Still treating you right?"

She emphasized treating you right in a way that made Utari's skin prickle.

"He's fine." She stared at her plate. "He's... fine."

"Just fine?" Lamis tilted her head, mocking concern. "No, no, that won't do. A pretty girl like you deserves better than 'fine.' You deserve someone who makes you see stars. Someone who knows exactly what you need."

The double meaning dripped from every word.

Their mother nodded sagely, completely oblivious. "She's right, you know. Mark is a nice boy, but if he's not making you happy—"

"Oh, she makes me happy," Lamis interrupted. "Don't she, Utari? When she's with the right person, she's very... satisfied."

The word satisfied rolled off Lamis's tongue like honey. Slow. Deliberate. Meant for Utari alone.

"I need more juice," Utari blurted, shoving back from the table so fast her chair scraped against the floor. "I'll be right back."

She fled to the kitchen, heart pounding. The refrigerator door handle was cool against her sweating palm. She stood there, staring at nothing, trying to calm the chaos in her chest.

Behind her, footsteps.

She didn't turn around. Didn't need to. She knew that gait anywhere.

"You're running again." Lamis's voice was low, meant only for her. "You always run after."

"I'm not running. I'm getting juice."

"You're avoiding me."

Utari finally turned. Lamis stood in the kitchen doorway, shoulder propped against the frame, arms crossed over her chest. That infuriating smile still played at her lips.

"I'm not avoiding you," Utari hissed. "I'm eating breakfast with my family. Like a normal person."

"Normal." Lamis tasted the word. "Is that what you tell yourself? That you're normal?"

"Shut up."

"Does Mark know you screamed my name last night? Does he know you begged for more even after you passed out?"

"Shut up." Utari's voice came out strangled. "Our parents are in the next room—"

"Our parents think I'm a deviant who corrupts innocent girls." Lamis stepped closer. "They have no idea their precious daughter is the one spreading her legs for her sister every chance she gets."

"I don't—" Utari backed up until her spine hit the refrigerator. "I don't spread my—"

"No?" Lamis caged her in, hands planted on either side of Utari's head. "Then what do you call it? What happened last night? What's been happening for two years?"

The words caught in Utari's throat.

Because she didn't have an answer. Didn't have a word for what this was—this sick, twisted thing between them. It wasn't a relationship. It wasn't love. It was need, pure and simple. A craving she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried.

"You hate me," Lamis murmured, leaning in close. Her breath ghosted over Utari's ear. "You hate what we do. You hate yourself for wanting it. But you keep coming back."

"I don't want this—"

"Then tell me to stop."

Utari's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Lamis laughed softly. "That's what I thought." She pulled back, giving Utari space. "Take your time with the juice. I'll cover for you."

And just like that, she was gone—sauntering back toward the dining room like nothing had happened.

Utari stayed pressed against the refrigerator, pulse hammering in her throat, arousal pooling between her thighs.

Eight girls this week, she thought. And she still came to me.

The thought shouldn't have pleased her.

It did.

She grabbed the juice carton with shaking hands and forced herself back to the table, back to normalcy, back to the family breakfast where no one knew that their older daughter had been knuckles-deep in their younger daughter less than eight hours ago.

Lamis caught her eye as she sat down and smiled.

Just smiled.

And Utari's stomach flipped.

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Chapter 7: Cleaning Up After

Lamis let her gaze wander.

Utari knelt on the bed, slumped forward in an unconscious heap, her ass still raised in the air from how she'd collapsed. The position should have been obscene—would have been, minutes ago—but now it just looked... vulnerable. Her sister's face pressed sideways into the pillow she'd screamed into, mouth slack, eyes closed. Long hair tangled everywhere. A thin line of drool traced from the corner of her lips to the fabric beneath her.

Lamis breathed.

The silence felt different now. During, it had been charged—electric with gasps and moans and the wet sounds of flesh meeting silicone. Now it was just... quiet. The house settled around them, floorboards creaking in that familiar way that meant their parents were asleep in the master bedroom down the hall. No threats. No interruptions.

Just two sisters in the dark.

Lamis reached down, her fingers finding the harness. She unclipped the buckles with practiced ease, sliding the strap-on free from her hips. Ben emerged glistening, coated in Utari's slick, and Lamis set it aside on the nightstand for cleaning later. Then she turned her attention back to her sister.

"Hey." She touched Utari's hip. No response. "Utari."

Still nothing.

Little thing really did pass out.

The thought brought a smile—smug, satisfied—but underneath it something else flickered. Something softer that Lamis chose not to examine too closely.

She gripped Utari's hips and slowly, carefully, pulled her back. The movement was fluid, practiced—she'd done this before, more times than she could count. Utari's body slid across the sheets, limp and boneless, until Lamis could maneuver her into sitting up. The younger girl's head lolled forward, chin dropping to her chest.

"Come on, baby sis." Lamis hooked her arms under Utari's armpits. "Up we go."

She lifted.

Utari weighed nothing. Or maybe Lamis was just used to this—the specific distribution of her sister's weight, the way her body fit when Lamis carried her. Utari's head tipped back, face slack and peaceful, and Lamis adjusted her grip to support her properly. She walked to the side of the bed and crouched, lowering Utari until she sat on the floor with her back against the bed frame.

There. Safe.

Utari's head rolled to one side. She didn't stir.

Lamis stood and surveyed the bed. The sheets were destroyed—there was no other word for it. A massive wet spot spread across the center, dark against the pale cotton, still damp to the touch. The edges had started to dry, crinkling slightly, but the center remained soaked through.

"Fuck, Utari." Lamis shook her head, half-laughing. "You really made a mess this time."

She'd said similar things before. Look at this puddle. Your boyfriend ever make you gush like this? But now the words lacked their usual edge. Just observation. Just fact.

Lamis grabbed the corners of the fitted sheet and stripped the bed in four quick movements. The pillowcases followed. She bunched everything into a ball and shoved it into the back of Utari's closet, beneath a pile of old clothes they never wore anymore. Their mother did laundry on Thursdays. That gave them five days to wash these separately, to make sure the evidence disappeared.

The mattress pad was damp too. Lamis flipped it over, hiding the worst of the stain against the slats beneath. Then she crossed to the linen closet in the hall, stepping carefully to avoid the creaky floorboard third from Utari's door.

The closet smelled like lavender detergent and old fabric. Lamis grabbed a fresh fitted sheet, a flat sheet, and a pillowcase—all white, all generic, identical to the ones she'd just removed. Their mother bought in bulk. It made covering their tracks almost too easy.

Back in the bedroom, Lamis worked quickly. Fitted sheet first, corners tucked tight. Flat sheet over that, edges straightened with military precision. She fluffed the pillows, slid them into fresh cases, arranged them against the headboard.

The bed looked untouched now. Fresh and clean, like nothing had happened.

Lamis turned back to Utari.

Her sister still sat on the floor, slumped against the bed, arms loose at her sides. Her legs were bent at awkward angles. Her face remained slack, lost in whatever dark void consciousness had retreated to.

Lamis crouched beside her.

"Time to wake up, sleepyhead." She patted Utari's cheek—gentle, almost fond. "You can't sleep on the floor."

No response.

Lamis sighed. She stood and walked to Utari's en suite bathroom, flicking on the light. The sink filled with warm water. She grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack—soft, pink, monogrammed with Utari's initials—and dipped it in.

She returned to her sister.

"Arms up."

Utari couldn't comply, obviously, so Lamis lifted them for her. She ran the warm cloth over Utari's body—wiping away dried sweat, slick, the evidence of everything they'd done. The inside of her thighs. The crease of her hips. Between her legs, where she was still swollen and red.

Lamis touched her gently. Carefully. The contrast to how she'd touched her an hour ago was stark, but she didn't think about it.

"Okay." She tossed the washcloth into the hamper. "Bedtime."

This time when she lifted Utari, she took her straight to the mattress. She laid her down like something precious—head on the pillow, body beneath the sheets. She pulled the covers up to Utari's chest, tucking the edges around her shoulders the way their mother used to when they were children.

Utari's breathing was slow and even. Her face had smoothed out, features relaxed in genuine rest. She looked younger like this. Softer. Like the girl next door everyone thought she was.

Lamis sat on the edge of the bed.

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Utari's forehead. Her fingers lingered there, barely touching skin.

"Goodnight, baby sis."

She leaned down and pressed her lips to Utari's forehead. The kiss was soft. Brief. Almost chaste, if you ignored everything that had come before it.

Then Lamis stood.

She gathered Ben from the nightstand, grabbed her clothes from the floor, and slipped out of Utari's bedroom. The door clicked shut behind her with barely a sound.

In the hallway, she paused—listening.

Their parents' room stayed silent. The house held its breath.

Lamis walked to her own room, two doors down, and closed herself inside.

She set Ben on her nightstand for cleaning in the morning. She pulled on her pajama pants and climbed into her own bed, alone.

The sheets here were dry.

Lamis stared at the ceiling for a long time, hands folded behind her head, and let the quiet settle around her.

Tomorrow, Utari would wake up confused. Embarrassed. Angry, probably. She'd say this was the last time—that they couldn't keep doing this.

And Lamis would say nothing.

She'd just wait.

Because she knew, with the certainty of two years of evidence, that Utari would come back. They always did. The shame and the hate and the internal screaming about incest and sin and everything wrong with this picture—none of it stopped her body from wanting.

None of it stopped Lamis from giving her exactly what she needed.

Lamis closed her eyes.

Somewhere down the hall, her sister slept.

And Lamis slept too, dreaming of nothing at all.

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Chapter 6: The Mirror Never Lies

The silence stretched between them, broken only by Utari's ragged breathing. She lay boneless against the sheets, her body still twitching with aftershocks, pussy gaping and drooling slick onto her thighs. Lamis propped herself up on one elbow, watching her with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.

A long pause.

Then Lamis spoke, and the words made Utari's stomach quiver and flip.

"Can Mark make you pass out?"

Utari's eyes snapped open, staring at the ceiling. The question hung in the air like smoke, invasive and impossible to ignore. She felt Lamis's fingers trace lazy patterns on her hip, proprietary and calm.

"What?" Her voice came out hoarse.

"You heard me." Lamis's breath was hot against her shoulder. "Has your precious boyfriend ever fucked you unconscious? Made you cum so hard you forgot your own name?"

"That's—I don't—" Utari sputtered, face burning. "That's not something to brag about."

"I'm not bragging." Lamis's hand slid lower, cupping her mound possessively. "I'm asking a genuine question. Because I'm sure you have a few more in you."

"More?" Utari's voice cracked. "I can't—Lamis, I literally can't feel my legs."

"Then you won't need them."

Before Utari could process the words, Lamis moved. Strong hands gripped her hips, flipping her over with practiced ease. Utari found herself on her stomach, face pressed into the mattress, ass lifted into the air. The position was humiliating—face down, ass up, presented like an offering.

"Wait—" She tried to turn over. "I need a minute—"

"You've had two years of minutes."

The bed dipped behind her. Utari felt the harness press against her ass, the thick length of Ben sliding between her thighs. Not inside—not yet—just rubbing through her mess, coating the silicone in her slick.

"Your cunt is still dripping." Lamis's voice was conversational, almost clinical. "Two orgasms and you're still making a puddle on your sheets. Mark must love this, getting to come home to a ready and willing little slut."

"Don't—" Utari's fingers twisted in the sheets. "Don't talk about him."

"Why not? You think about him when we do this?"

"I don't think about anyone when we—"

"Exactly." Lamis positioned herself at Utari's entrance. The thick head of Ben pressed against her opening, not pushing in yet. Just threatening. "You don't think about anyone. You just feel."

With no further warning, Lamis thrust forward.

The penetration was brutal. No gentleness, no adjustment period—just one long, relentless slide that buried Ben to the hilt in Utari's aching pussy. The silicone stretched her walls wide, the curved tip finding that spot inside her with unerring accuracy.

"Fuck—!" Utari's scream was muffled by the mattress. Her back arched, fingers clawing at the sheets. "Too fast—you went too fast—"

"Did I?" Lamis started moving immediately, setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drove Utari forward into the bed, hips snapping against her ass with sharp slaps. "Your cunt seems fine. More than fine, actually. You're gripping me like you never want to let go."

"I hate you—" The words came out broken, interspersed with moans. "I hate you so much—"

"Keep saying that." Lamis's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back onto each thrust. "Tell me how much you hate me while your pussy swallows every inch."

"This is wrong—" Utari's voice cracked. "We shouldn't—this is incest, this is—"

"Say it again." Lamis fucked her harder. "Tell me how wrong it is while you push back onto my cock."

Utari's mouth opened to protest, but the words dissolved into a moan. Her body was moving without her permission—hips rolling, back arching, pushing herself onto each thrust. Two years of this, and her cunt still couldn't understand that this was supposed to be wrong.

"You're not even trying to fight." Lamis's voice was mocking. "All those words, and your body just takes it."

"I'm too tired—" Utari gasped. "You made me—I can't—"

"Too tired to move, but not too tired to cum." Lamis reached forward, fisting her hand in Utari's hair. "Let's test that theory."

She yanked.

Utari's head snapped back, neck arched obscenely. The pain should have killed the mood—it would have, with anyone else. But with Lamis, with this, her pussy clenched tight around Ben, gushing fresh slick.

"There it is." Lamis's laugh was dark, knowing. "Every time. I pull your hair and your cunt just opens up for me."

"No—" Utari whimpered. "That doesn't—I don't like that—"

"Your pussy says otherwise." Lamis twisted her grip, pulling harder. "Every time I hurt you, you get wetter. Every time I'm rough, you clamp down like you're trying to milk my cock."

"That's not—I'm not—" Utari couldn't form complete thoughts. The dual sensations of Ben hammering her cunt and Lamis's grip in her hair were overwhelming. Pain and pleasure blending together until she couldn't tell them apart.

"Two years, Utari." Lamis leaned forward, breath hot against her ear. "Two years of this. And you still pretend you don't want it."

Utari kept her eyes squeezed shut, trying to block everything out. The feeling of being filled, stretched, used. The wet sounds of her pussy being fucked. Lamis's voice in her ear, cataloging every reaction.

Then she opened them.

The mirror.

Across the room, a full-length mirror on the closet door reflected everything. The dim light from the window caught their bodies—Lamis behind her, strap-on buried in her cunt, hands gripping her hips and hair. Utari on all fours, back arched, face twisted in pleasure she couldn't hide.

The sight made her stomach clench.

"Close your eyes—" She couldn't look away. "Please—I need to—"

"Need to what?" Lamis didn't see the mirror. Was focused on the back of Utari's neck, on the curve of her spine. "Need to pretend you're not enjoying this?"

The reflection showed everything. Every thrust, every ripple through her body. The way her tits bounced with each impact. The way her ass cheeks clapped against Lamis's hips. The way her face—her fucking face—was twisted in pleasure.

Her body felt suddenly more sensitive. Every nerve ending firing at once. She couldn't stop the whimpers spilling from her lips, couldn't control the way her pussy clenched around Ben.

"What's with the noise?" Lamis's pace slowed slightly. "You usually save the whimpering for when you're close."

"I'm not—" Utari couldn't explain. Couldn't say she was watching herself get fucked by her sister. "Nothing—keep going—"

"That's not how this works." Lamis's grip tightened in her hair. "Tell me what's making you whimper."

"Nothing—please—"

"Liar." Lamis thrust hard, punching the air from Utari's lungs. "You're dripping down my thighs. Your cunt is quivering. Something's got you worked up."

Utari's eyes stayed fixed on the mirror. On the obscene picture they made. Sisters—not that anyone watching could tell, not from this angle—fucking like animals. Her face burned with shame and arousal.

"I hate this—" Her voice broke. "I hate you—I hate what we do—"

"Keep saying that." Lamis started fucking her harder. "Tell me how much you hate me while you watch yourself take my cock."

Utari froze. "You—you can't see the—"

"I can see your face in the window reflection." Lamis's voice was smug. "Been watching you this whole time. The way you can't look away from yourself. The way your eyes go glassy when I hit that spot."

"No—"

"Yes." Lamis reached around, pressing her thumb against Utari's clit. "You love watching yourself get fucked. Love seeing what a desperate little slut you are for your sister."

Utari screamed. The combination of words and sensation broke something inside her. Her whole body shook, torn between denying it and cumming on the spot.

"Fuck—fuck—Lamis—"

"Say it." Lamis rubbed tight circles on her clit, matching the rhythm of her thrusts. "Say you love watching yourself take my cock."

"I don't—I can't—"

"Say it or I stop."

The threat was worse than anything else. Utari's pussy clenched at the idea of Ben leaving her empty. She was so close, so fucking close, and the image in the mirror—her own face contorted in pleasure—made everything worse.

"I—" She couldn't. Couldn't say it out loud.

"Last chance." Lamis's hips stilled.

"Fine!" The word burst out of her. "Fine—I love watching—I love seeing myself—I can't stop looking—"

"Good girl." Lamis started moving again, each thrust deliberate. "Now I have a question for you."

Utari whimpered, too overwhelmed to process.

Lamis's hand left her hip, reaching toward the head of the bed. She grabbed a pillow, holding it just out of reach.

"Which is bigger? Mine or Mark's?"

The question hit Utari like ice water. "What?"

"You heard me." Lamis fucked her slowly now, each thrust a statement. "Your boyfriend has a dick. I have a dick. Which one is bigger? Which one fills you up better?"

"That's—I'm not going to—"

"Answer the question." Lamis shifted her angle, the curved tip of Ben pressing against Utari's cervix. "Which one satisfies this greedy cunt?"

Utari saw stars. The pressure against her cervix was intense—not quite painful, but overwhelming. Her whole body tightened, trying to process the sensation.

"Please—give me the pillow—"

"Answer the question first."

"I can't—" Utari's voice was desperate. "Mark would—if he knew I said—"

"Mark can't make you scream like this." Lamis pressed harder against her cervix. "Mark can't reach this deep. Can he?"

The pressure increased. Ben's thick head pushed insistently against the tight ring of her cervix, demanding entry. Utari had never been fucked this deep—no one had ever breached that final barrier.

"Lamis—please—that's too deep—you can't—"

"Watch me."

Lamis thrust forward with purpose. The silicone cock pressed harder, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly, reluctantly. Utari felt herself being stretched impossibly wide—wider than she'd ever been before.

"Oh God—oh fuck—" Her voice went high and thin. "That's—that's my—"

"I know exactly what it is." Lamis's voice was strained, the effort of pushing through that resistance costing her. "And you're going to take it."

The cervix stretched. The pressure built to the point of breaking. And then—

Ben's head popped through.

Utari screamed into the mattress, her whole body seizing. The sensation was unlike anything—pain and pleasure mixing into something she couldn't name. She could feel the silicone cock inside her womb, stretching her most protected space.

"That's it." Lamis's voice was reverent. "Taking me so deep. Deeper than anyone's ever been."

"Please—please—it's too much—"

"You can take it. You were made to take it." Lamis held still, letting her adjust. "Look in the mirror. Look at how good you look with my cock in your womb."

Utari's eyes snapped to the reflection. She could see the slight bulge in her stomach—Ben pressed so deep she was being reshaped. The sight made her pussy gush, clenching desperately around the intrusion.

"Fuck—" She couldn't stop staring. "Fuck—fuck—fuck—"

"Answer the question." Lamis pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again. "Which is bigger?"

"Yours—" The word tore out of her. "Yours is bigger—you're deeper—you're—fuck—you're in my fucking womb—"

"And?"

"And it's better—" Utari was crying now, overwhelmed by sensation and shame. "Your cock is better than his—you fuck me better than he ever has—no one's ever been this deep—I can feel you in my stomach—"

Lamis gave her the pillow.

Utari grabbed it, burying her face in the soft fabric. But her eyes—her traitor eyes—stayed fixed on the mirror. Watching herself get womb-fucked by her sister. Watching her own face contort in unwilling pleasure.

Lamis started moving in earnest now. Short, deep thrusts that kept Ben's head lodged past the cervix, fucking her in long, sliding strokes. The sensation was unbearable—each movement sending shocks through her entire body.

"Such a good girl." Lamis's voice was praising, degrading. "Taking my cock so deep. Letting me breed your fucking womb."

"Breed—" Utari couldn't process the word. "You can't—we can't—"

"I can do whatever I want to this cunt." Lamis fucked her harder. "It's mine. Has been for two years. Mark gets the leftovers."

The degradation made Utari's pussy clench. She hated how much she loved it—the shame, the dirtiness, the wrongness of every word. Her body didn't care about morality. Her body just wanted more.

"Close—" She sobbed into the pillow. "I'm close again—Lamis—I can't—"

"You will."

The thrusts intensified. Each one drove Ben deeper, the silicone head grinding against the walls of her womb. Utari could feel her cervix stretching, opening, yielding to the intrusion. The pressure was building to something massive—something she wasn't sure she'd survive.

"Please—please—please—"

"Let go."

Lamis reached around again, pressing hard against Utari's clit. At the same time, she drove as deep as she could go, Ben's head fully inside her womb.

The orgasm was devastating.

Utari's entire body seized, back arching so hard her spine cracked. Her pussy and womb clenched in tandem, milking the silicone cock for everything it couldn't give. The scream that tore from her throat was animal—raw and broken.

And she couldn't stop looking at the mirror.

Watching herself cum. Watching her own face twist in ecstasy. Watching her sister's cock buried in her body, taking everything.

Her vision went white.

Then black.

Her body gave out completely, muscles failing, consciousness slipping away. The last thing she felt was Lamis's hand in her hair, gentle now, and a soft voice saying something she couldn't quite hear.

She crumpled onto the mattress, ass still in the air, pussy still gaping around Ben's thick base. The silicone cock remained buried inside her, a plug keeping all that cum-like slick trapped in her ruined cunt.

The mirror reflected it all.

Her unconscious body, thoroughly fucked.

Her sister's satisfied smile.

And the wet mess between her thighs, evidence of everything she pretended to hate.

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Chapter 5: The Morning After

Lamis's fingers found Utari's chin, tilting her face up. The touch was gentle—almost tender—a stark contrast to everything that had come before. Their eyes met in the darkness, and something passed between them. Something complicated.

Then Lamis kissed her.

Soft at first. Just the press of lips against lips, barely any pressure. Utari's breath caught. Her body tensed beneath her sister's weight, every instinct screaming that this was wrong.

"Lamis—" she started to pull back.

"Shh." Lamis's mouth moved against hers, and the softness began to change. Deeper. More insistent. Her tongue traced the seam of Utari's lips, requesting entry.

Utari's resistance crumbled.

She opened for her sister, and the kiss shifted into something else entirely. Lamis's tongue slid inside, slow and deliberate, tasting her thoroughly. Utari's hands moved without permission—fisting in short hair, pulling her closer. A moan bubbled up from somewhere deep in her chest.

Fuck.

This wasn't supposed to feel like this. This was wrong, Incest is wrong, Being a Lesbian is wrong. She knew this, or at least she was told this. Yet, here she is.

Kissing her Sister—Fucking kissing her sister—

Lamis pulled back just enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together. "You're kissing me back."

"I hate you."

"You keep saying that." Lamis's lips brushed her jaw. "But your mouth says something else."

Utari's heart hammered against her ribs. Her pussy, still stretched and sensitive from before, clenched around nothing. Ben had been removed, leaving her empty and aching. But now a different ache was building.

"Look at you," Lamis murmured, pulling back to study her face. Moonlight caught the curve of her smile. "Flustered. Confused. Wet again already, I bet."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Lamis sat up suddenly, straddling Utari's hips. The movement made the harness shift, the base of Ben pressing against Utari's mound. The silicone cock rested hot and heavy against her stomach, a reminder of everything they'd done. Everything they were about to do.

Utari whimpered.

Loudly.

"There it is." Lamis's grin turned sharp. "That pretty little sound you make when you want something but won't ask for it."

"I don't—"

"You do." Lamis's hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips. "Every time. Two years of that exact whimper. And every time, you pretend you don't know what it means."

Utari's face burned. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Lamis rolled her hips forward, dragging Ben along Utari's slit. The silicone caught against her entrance—not pushing in, just there—and her thighs fell open wider without conscious thought.

"Fuck—"

"That's what I thought." Lamis leaned down, brushing her lips against Utari's ear. "Your cunt is literally dripping on my cock right now. You can pretend all you want, but this greedy little pussy doesn't lie."

Her hips rolled again. The thick head of Ben slipped through slick folds, catching on Utari's clit before sliding back down to tease her entrance.

Utari shuttered in Lamis arms.

"Please—"

"Please what?" Another roll. Another tease. "Tell me what you want."

"I can't—"

"You can." Lamis's teeth found her earlobe, biting down hard enough to sting. "You've been taking my cock for two years. You can use your fucking words."

"Inside—" The word came out strangled. "Please, just—put it inside—"

Lamis pulled back, studying her face with that insufferable smirk. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Before Utari could respond, Lamis shifted her weight. Strong hands grabbed her ass, lifting her off the mattress like she weighed nothing. Utari yelped, clutching at her sister's shoulders.

"What are you—"

"Trust me."

Lamis stood up on the bed, Utari's knees wrapped around Lamis' waist. The position lifted her higher, leaving Utari suspended in her grip—ass supported by steady hands, legs dangling uselessly.

Then Lamis lowered her.

Slowly. So fucking slowly.

The tip of Ben pressed against Utari's entrance, stretching her open inch by excruciating inch. Gravity did the work, her own weight pushing her down onto the thick silicone cock while Lamis controlled the descent.

"Oh God—" Utari's nails dug into her sister's shoulders. "Oh fuck—fuck—too slow—"

"You wanted inside." Lamis's voice was steady, controlled. "I'm giving you inside."

The first inch stretched her pussy lips wide, the flared head popping past the initial resistance. Utari whimpered, feeling her walls clamp down instinctively, trying to grip something that couldn't feel her.

Two inches. Three.

The prominent veins along Ben's shaft dragged against her sensitive inner walls, every ridge and bump sending sparks up her spine. She was still tender from earlier—still swollen and overstimulated—but the stretch was exquisite.

Four inches. Five.

"Taking it so well." Lamis's arms barely trembled, holding her suspended. "Such a good little cocksleeve."

"Don't call me—"

Six inches. The curved tip pressed against her front wall, nudging her G-spot with unerring accuracy. The rest of the word died in her throat.

Seven. Eight.

She was fully seated now, pussy wrapped around the entire length of Ben, clit grinding against the harness base. Every tiny movement sent jolts through her overstimulated nerves.

Lamis held her there. Suspended. Impaled. Owned.

"You feel that?" Lamis flexed her hips, a tiny movement that made Ben shift inside her. "Feel how deep I am? How fucking full you are?"

"Yes—" Utari's voice cracked. "Yes, I feel it—I feel you—so deep—"

"And this is just the beginning."

Lamis started moving.

Not the slow, deliberate strokes from earlier. These were sharp, upward thrusts—short and brutal—punching into her cunt from below. Each snap of her sister's hips drove Ben deeper, the curved tip hammering that perfect spot inside her.

"Ah—ah—ah—"

Utari's head fell back, mouth open in a silent moan. Her legs wrapped around Lamis's waist, ankles locking behind her back, trying to pull her closer. Trying to get more.

"Greedy fucking thing." Lamis's grip tightened on her ass, fingers digging into soft flesh. "I'm pounding your cunt and you're still trying to take more."

"I can't—it's not—I need—"

"What do you need?"

"Faster—please—harder—"

Lamis obliged.

The thrusts came faster now, each one driving Utari higher in her sister's grip before slamming her back down. The wet sounds of her pussy being fucked filled the room—obscene, loud, undeniable.

Schlick. Schlick. Schlick.

"Listen to that." Lamis's voice was hot against her throat. "Listen to how wet you are. How fucking dripping. Your cunt is practically singing for me."

"Don't—don't talk like that—"

"Why? Because it makes you tighter?" Another brutal thrust. "Because your pussy clenches every time I tell you what a desperate little slut you are?"

"Fuck you—"

"Fuck you." Lamis drove up particularly hard, making Utari scream. "Fuck this perfect, tight, greedy little cunt that can't get enough of her sister's cock."

Utari's nails raked down Lamis's back, leaving red lines in their wake. Her entire body was wound tight, pleasure building at the base of her spine. This was different from the earlier orgasms—deeper, more intense. Something that had been building since Lamis first kissed her.

"Lamis—" She grabbed her sister's face, pulling her down. "Kiss me—please—need your mouth—"

Their lips crashed together.

This kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't tender. It was desperate and hungry and wrong in every way that mattered—tongues sliding together, teeth clacking, breath coming in sharp gasps between each press of lips. Utari kissed her sister like she was drowning and Lamis was air.

And through it all, Lamis kept fucking her.

Those short, brutal thrusts never faltered. Up and down, in and out, driving Ben into her cunt with mechanical precision while their mouths devoured each other.

"Close—" Utari gasped against her sister's lips. "So close—I'm—"

"Cum for me."

Lamis shifted her angle slightly, the curved tip of Ben grinding directly against her G-spot. At the same time, she bit down on Utari's lower lip—hard enough to draw blood.

The orgasm exploded through her.

Utari's scream was swallowed by Lamis's mouth, her entire body seizing up as pleasure crashed through every nerve ending. Her pussy clamped down on Ben so hard it hurt, walls spasming around the thick silicone, trying to milk something that couldn't give.

And Lamis didn't stop.

Through the aftershocks, through the sensitivity, through Utari's whimpers and pleas—she kept thrusting.

"No—too much—please—Lamis, I can't—"

"You can."

Her arms were shaking now, the effort of holding Utari's weight while thrusting taking its toll. But she didn't slow down. If anything, she went harder.

"Another one." Lamis's voice was ragged, breath hot against Utari's bruised lips. "Give me another one."

"I'll die—I'll actually fucking die—"

"Then die happy."

The overstimulation was agony—beautiful, devastating agony. Every thrust sent sparks through her frayed nerves, each one toeing the line between pleasure and pain. Her pussy was swollen, abused, ruined. And still, her cunt greedily swallowed every inch of Ben.

"Please—" She didn't know what she was begging for. Mercy? More? Everything?

"Look at me."

Utari's eyes fluttered open, meeting her sister's gaze. Lamis's face was flushed, jaw tight, muscles trembling. Sweat dripped down her temples. She looked almost as wrecked as Utari felt.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you cum." Lamis's voice cracked. "So fucking beautiful when you let go."

"Lamis—"

"I've got you. I've always got you."

She slammed up into Utari's cunt and held there, grinding deep. The base of the harness pressed against her clit, the silicone cock buried to the hilt.

Utari shattered.

This orgasm was different—not a crash but a slow, rolling wave that started in her core and spread outward. Her walls rippled around Ben, pussy gushing fresh slick, coating the harness and her sister's thighs.

"Good girl." Lamis's mouth found her ear. "Such a good girl for me."

Utari slumped forward, forehead falling against her sister's shoulder. Her entire body felt like jelly—boneless, breathless, completely destroyed. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could only hang on while Lamis lowered them both back to the mattress.

The cock slid out of her with an obscene wet sound, leaving her pussy gaping and empty. Her cunt clenched around nothing, still fluttering with aftershocks.

"Shh." Lamis rolled them onto their sides, pulling Utari close. "Just breathe."

Utari's breath came in ragged gasps, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness—from overwhelm. From pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

"The things you do to me," she whispered.

Lamis's hand stroked her hair, gentling her. "The things you let me do."

A long pause.

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Chapter 4: Promises Made in the Dark

Utari felt Lamis's hips snap forward harder, the thick silicone driving deep enough to punch the air from her lungs. The bed frame groaned against the wall—a dangerous sound in the quiet house—and she bit down on her lip until she tasted copper.

Then Lamis's teeth found her neck.

" No—" The word came out strangled, desperate. "Lamis, don't—please—"

Her sister's jaw clamped down on the sensitive junction where neck met shoulder, sucking hard enough to break capillaries. Utari's hands flew up, pushing against Lamis's shoulders, but her arms had no strength. Three orgasms had turned her muscles to liquid. She couldn't fight. Could barely breathe.

"Stop— fuck —you can't—" Tears spilled hot down her temples, soaking into the pillow beneath her head. "I can't hide them anymore. Mom already asked about the last one. Said I looked like I'd been attacked by a vacuum."

Lamis's rhythm didn't falter. If anything, she fucked harder.

"Please." Utari's voice cracked. The word came out thick and wet. "Mark's coming over tomorrow. He'll see. He'll know."

Still Lamis didn't stop. Her teeth scraped along Utari's pulse point, tongue soothing over the marks she was leaving.

"I can't—" Utari sobbed now, full-body tremors wracking through her. Not just from the overstimulation—though her swollen pussy ached from being stretched and fucked for what felt like hours—but from something deeper. Something that felt like drowning. "I can't keep lying. To everyone. To him. To Mom and Dad." Her fingers curled into Lamis's breasts, nails digging crescents into skin. "Please. I know you don't like him. But I love him. Please not my neck."

Lamis went still.

The sudden absence of movement was almost worse than the brutal fucking had been. Utari's inner walls clenched around nothing, the silicone cock still buried inside her but no longer moving. Her pussy pulsed, confused and desperate, still chasing the orgasm that had been building.

Lamis pushed herself up on her arms, looking down at her sister. Her face was unreadable in the moonlight—no smirk, no smugness, no hunger. Just... nothing. Flat. Watching.

Utari couldn't stop crying. The tears came in ugly, hiccupping gasps, her chest heaving. She felt wrung out. Used up. Her pussy was still stretched around Ben's thick shaft, her nipples aching from Lamis's earlier attention, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. But beneath all that physical exhaustion was something rawer. Something that felt like breaking.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I shouldn't have—"

"Stop."

Lamis's voice was quiet. Not harsh. Not teasing. Just... quiet.

Utari's mouth snapped shut. She blinked up at her sister through blurred vision, trying to read that neutral expression. Was Lamis angry? Disgusted? Done?

Please don't be done.

The thought horrified her even as it formed.

"You really love him?"

The question caught Utari off guard. She nodded slowly, tears still tracking down her cheeks. "Yes. I do. He's—he's good to me. He's safe. He's normal."

"Normal."

"He doesn't make me feel like this." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Like I'm wrong. Like I'm disgusting. Like I should be on my knees thanking God you haven't told everyone what a pervert I am."

Lamis's jaw tightened. A flicker of something crossed her features—too fast for Utari to identify.

"You think I'd out you?"

"I don't know what you'd do." Utari's chin wobbled. "You hate him. You make that clear every time his name comes up. You fuck me harder when you talk about him. Like you're trying to prove something."

"I don't hate him."

Utari stared. "You—what?"

"I don't hate Mark." Lamis shifted slightly, and the movement made Ben press against Utari's cervix. She winced, overstimulated nerves screaming. "He's not a bad guy. He's just... not good enough for you."

"He loves me—"

"He doesn't know you." Lamis's voice hardened. "Not really. He knows the version of you that smiles and plays perfect girlfriend. The one who laughs at his jokes and pretends to enjoy his two-minute thrusting. The one who would never in a million years admit that she comes hardest when her sister calls her a desperate slut."

Utari flinched.

"Does he know you bite your lip when you're trying not to cum?" Lamis continued, her hips rolling forward slightly—a tiny movement that made Utari's breath hitch. "Does he know you like having your hair pulled? That you get wetter when someone talks dirty to you? That you've literally cried because you were so turned on?"

"Lamis—"

"Does he know you called out my name when he was inside you last week?"

Utari's face burned. "He didn't hear—"

"He didn't." Lamis agreed. "Because he's not paying attention. He's too busy thinking he's doing you a favor by gracing you with his mediocre dick."

The words should have stung. Should have made Utari angry, defensive, loyal to her boyfriend. Instead, they sent a bolt of heat straight to her core.

Her pussy clenched around Ben.

Lamis felt it. Her lips twitched—that familiar smirk threatening to return.

"You're still so fucking tight," she murmured. "Even after three times. Even when you're crying. Your cunt doesn't know the difference between sadness and arousal, does it?"

"Lamis, please—"

"Please what?" Lamis leaned down, her face inches from Utari's. "Please stop? Please don't mark you where people can see?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Utari blinked. "What?"

"Okay." Lamis pulled back slightly, and the neutral expression returned. "I won't mark your neck."

The relief that flooded through Utari was so intense she nearly sobbed again. "Thank you. Thank you, I—"

"But I'm not done with you."

Before Utari could process the words, Lamis's mouth descended.

Not to her neck.

To her chest.

Lips sealed over Utari's left nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The sensation shot straight down—electric and immediate—and Utari's back arched off the mattress.

" Ah —"

Lamis sucked. Hard. Her teeth grazed the sensitive bud, pulling and twisting until white-hot pleasurepain radiated through Utari's breast.

"Fuck— fuck —"

"Good?" Lamis pulled back just enough to speak, breath hot against wet skin.

"You know it's good—"

"I want to hear you say it."

Utari's hands fisted in the sheets. Her hips twitched upward, desperate for friction, but Lamis's weight pinned her in place. Ben remained buried inside her, unmoving, a constant reminder of how full she was.

"It's good," she whispered.

"Louder."

"It's good—your mouth—feels good on my—"

"On your what?"

"My tits. My nipples. Fuck."

Lamis rewarded her by switching to the other breast. Her tongue traced circles around the areola before teeth closed around the nipple, biting down with just enough pressure to make Utari yelp. Then soothing suction, long pulls that made Utari's cunt flutter around the silicone cock inside her.

"Oh God—oh God —"

"God's not here, baby sister." Lamis's hand replaced her mouth, rolling the wet nipple between thumb and forefinger. "Just me. Just us. Just this."

She started moving her hips again.

Slow this time. Deliberate. Long strokes that dragged Ben along Utari's inner walls, hitting every sensitive spot.

The combination was devastating.

Lamis's mouth on her nipples—sucking, biting, licking—while her cock fucked into her with maddening patience. Utari's body didn't know how to process it. Her third orgasm had already left her nerves frayed; this was pushing her into territory she'd never explored.

"Please—" She didn't know what she was begging for. More? Less? Everything?

"You're so responsive." Lamis's voice vibrated against her breast. "Every time I touch you, your pussy grips me tighter. You're like a fucking vice."

"I hate this."

"No, you don't."

"I hate you."

"Liar." Lamis thrust deeper, grinding her hips in a slow circle. "You love this. You love being used. You love that your straight, church-going, boyfriend-having ass gets wettest when your lesbian sister fucks you like a whore."

"Don't—don't say that—"

"Why? Because it's true?" Another thrust. Another swirl of her tongue. "Because your cunt is literally dripping right now? Because you've cum three times tonight and you're already close to a fourth?"

Utari's moans turned frantic. Her body was on fire. Every nerve ending screamed with overstimulation—pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, pain so sharp it twisted into pleasure.

"I can't—"

"You can." Lamis bit down on her nipple at the same moment she snapped her hips forward. "You will."

"Lamis— Lamis —"

"That's it." Lamis switched breasts again, worshiping each nipple in turn. "Say my name. Scream it if you want. Mom and Dad already think I'm a corrupting influence. Might as well give them a reason."

"You're sick—"

"Probably." Lamis's hand slid between their bodies, finding Utari's clit. "But so are you. That's why this works."

The first touch to her swollen bundle of nerves nearly broke her. Utari's entire body seized, back arching completely off the bed as pleasure crested.

" Ah —ah— ah —"

"Cum for me." Lamis rubbed tight circles, her cock buried deep, her teeth scraping nipple flesh. "Show me who you belong to."

The orgasm shattered through her without warning.

Utari's mouth opened in a silent scream. Her pussy convulsed around Ben, gripping the silicone so hard it hurt. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, each one more intense than the last, until she couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

" Fuck —fuck— fuck —"

Lamis didn't stop.

Her fingers kept working Utari's clit. Her hips kept rolling. Her mouth kept torturing those poor, abused nipples.

"No—please—Lamis, please—I can't—"

"You can."

"I'm too sensitive—it's too much—"

"Take it." Lamis's voice dropped into that command that made Utari's thighs shake. "Be a good girl and take it."

Tears streamed down Utari's face. Her body writhed beneath her sister, caught between trying to escape and trying to pull her closer. The overstimulation was agony—beautiful, devastating agony.

"You look so pretty when you cry." Lamis kissed up her chest, across her collarbone, along her jaw. Avoiding her neck. Keeping her promise. "Such a good little slut for me."

"I'm not—I'm not a—"

"You're my slut." Lamis captured her mouth in a bruising kiss.

Utari tasted herself on her sister's lips—salt and musk and something darker. She kissed back desperately, unable to help herself, even as her body shook from the relentless stimulation.

Lamis pulled back, breathing hard. "One more. Give me one more."

"I'll die—"

"You won't." Her hips snapped faster now, fucking into Utari with renewed urgency. "I want to feel you cum on my cock. Want to feel this greedy little pussy squeeze every inch of me."

"Lamis—"

"Come on, baby sister." Lamis's thumb pressed harder on her clit. "Show me how much you hate this."

The fifth orgasm blindsided her.

It crashed through her body like a fucking tsunami, stealing every thought, every breath, everything. Utari's vision went white. Her body locked up. And she felt herself squirt—actually fucking squirt—around Ben, soaking the harness, soaking Lamis's thighs, soaking the sheets beneath them.

" Oh fuck —OH FUCK— LAMIS —"

Lamis groaned against her throat, hips stuttering as she worked her through it. "That's it. That's my good girl. Fuck, you're so hot when you let go."

Utari couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could barely exist.

Her pussy clenched and unclenched in aftershocks, each one pulling a whimper from her throat. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably. Her nipples throbbed.

And through it all, Lamis held her.

Not fucking anymore. Just... holding. Her weight settled carefully atop Utari, cock still inside but still. Her lips brushed Utari's temples, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth.

"Shh." Soft. Gentle. Almost tender. "I've got you."

Utari's arms wrapped around her sister's back, pulling her closer. Her fingers tangled in that short hair, holding on like Lamis was the only solid thing in a spinning world.

"I hate you," she whispered into Lamis's shoulder.

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

Utari's breath hitched. "Why do you do this to me?"

Lamis was quiet for a long moment. Then she lifted her head, looking down at her sister with something unreadable in her eyes.

"Because you keep leaving your door unlocked."

Utari's chest tightened. "That's not—I didn't—"

"You did." Lamis brushed a strand of hair from Utari's forehead. "Every time. Two years. Every single time I've walked past your room, you've left it open. You could have bought a lock. You could have wedged a chair under the handle. You could have said no."

"I did say no—"

"You said 'I can't.' You said 'we shouldn't.' You said 'someone might hear.'" Lamis's voice dropped. "You never said 'stop.'"

Utari's eyes burned.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The question hung in the air between them. Heavy. Important.

Utari thought about Mark—sweet, boring, oblivious Mark. She thought about church, about her parents' disappointed faces whenever Lamis's name came up. She thought about the shame that curled in her stomach every time she looked at her sister.

Then she thought about Lamis's mouth on her nipples. Her cock inside her pussy. The way she'd held her through five orgasms like it was nothing.

"I don't know."

It was the most honest answer she had.

Lamis nodded slowly. She pulled out carefully, making Utari wince at the sudden emptiness. Then she rolled onto her side, pulling Utari with her until they were face to face on the pillow.

"Then we keep going until you do."

"That's not fair."

"No." Lamis's hand found Utari's hip, thumb stroking soothing circles against the skin. "It's not. But nothing about this is fair. Not the way Mom and Dad treat me. Not the way you pretend to be something you're not. Not the fact that we both know you'll leave your door unlocked again tomorrow."

Utari wanted to argue. Wanted to deny it.

Instead, she pressed her forehead against her sister's and closed her eyes.

"You're such a bitch."

"I know."

"And a hypocrite."

"Definitely."

"And I really, really hate how good you are at that."

Lamis laughed softly. "I know that too."

Utari's body ached. Her pussy throbbed. Her nipples stung.

And she'd never felt more at peace.

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Chapter 3: Ben's Midnight Claim

Utari couldn't tear her eyes away from Ben. The silicone cock jutted forward between her breasts, separated from her skin by nothing but the thin cotton of her sleep shirt. Lamis straddled her stomach, her weight pressing down warm and firm, and the harness sat snug against her hips.

Moonlight cut through the blinds and caught Lamis's face. Sharp angles. Short hair casting shadows across her forehead. That crooked smirk that made Utari's stomach flip.

Made her scared.

Made her wet.

"You're staring," Lamis said, her voice low and amused. "See something you like, little sister?"

Utari's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was wrong. Every part of this was wrong—her sister above her, that silicone cock inches from her face, her thighs squeezing together beneath Lamis's weight.

But fuck, Lamis looked good like this. Towering. Dominant. In control.

Utari would never say it out loud. Could never admit that the sight of her sister looming over her made her cunt throb.

"Answer me."

"I—yes." The word slipped out before she could stop it.

Lamis's smirk widened. She shifted forward, and Ben slid higher, the silicone head brushing against Utari's collarbone through her shirt. "Good girl. Honest for once."

"Honest?"

"You've been lying to yourself for two years." Lamis reached down and gathered Utari's hair in her fist, yanking her head back. "Lying to everyone. Tell me you don't want this."

"I—"

"Tell me you don't want me to fuck you with Ben." Lamis tugged harder, exposing Utari's throat. "Tell me your pussy isn't dripping right now."

Utari whimpered.

"That's what I thought." Lamis released her hair and grabbed the hem of Utari's shirt instead, tugging it upward. "Open your mouth."

"What?"

"You heard me." Lamis pushed Ben forward, the silicone head pressing against Utari's bottom lip. "Get it wet. Make it sloppy."

Utari's lips parted. The silicone slipped past her teeth, filling her mouth. It tasted like lube and something faintly chemical, but beneath that was the memory of every other time Ben had been inside her—her pussy stretched around that curved shaft, her sister's hips snapping forward.

"There you go." Lamis rolled her hips, fucking forward into Utari's mouth. "Such a good little cocksucker. You practice on Mark? Does that useless boyfriend let you choke on his dick like this?"

Utari's eyes watered. Ben pushed deeper, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged, and Lamis laughed.

"Mark couldn't handle you." Another thrust. The silicone stretched Utari's jaw wide. "That vanilla fuck probably thinks missionary is adventurous. Bet he doesn't even know you can deepthroat."

Tears spilled down Utari's temples. Her throat convulsed around Ben, spit gathering at the corners of her mouth. Every thrust made her gag, made her eyes blur, made her pussy clench around nothing.

She needed to be filled.

"—wait—" Utari gasped when Lamis pulled back enough for her to breathe. "Lamis, please—"

"Please what?" Lamis fucked forward again, cutting off her words. "Use your words. Tell me what you want."

Utari couldn't think. Her jaw ached. Her throat burned. Her cunt pulsed with every heartbeat, swollen and desperate.

"Want you to—fuck—"

"In your mouth?" Lamis thrust harder. "Or somewhere else?"

Utari's hands flew to Lamis's thighs, gripping tight. Her hips bucked upward, searching for friction that wasn't there.

"My pussy," she finally choked out. "Please—fuck my pussy—"

Lamis groaned. "Filthy little slut." She grabbed Utari's shirt and yanked it up, exposing her breasts to the cool air. "Look at these nipples. Hard as fucking diamonds."

Her thumb brushed over one, and Utari arched off the mattress.

"You like that?" Lamis rolled the nipple between her fingers, pinching hard enough to sting. "You like when I play with your tits while you suck me off?"

"Yes—fuck—yes—"

Lamis's other hand found her neglected breast, both nipples being twisted and pulled now. Utari's moans turned into desperate whimpers around Ben, drool spilling down her chin.

"You know what I think?" Lamis withdrew the silicone from Utari's mouth with a wet pop. "I think your boyfriend has never made you feel this good. I think you've been starving for it."

Utari gasped for breath, her chest heaving. "He tries—"

"He fails." Lamis shifted down Utari's body, trailing wet silicone across her stomach. "Every time you fuck him, you're thinking about me. Every time he touches you, you wish it was my hands. My mouth. My cock."

"That's not—"

"You called out my name last week." Lamis positioned herself between Utari's thighs. "When he was inside you. You said Lamis. Did he notice?"

Heat flooded Utari's face. "He—no. He thought I said—"

"Lamees?" Lamis mocked. "Like the Arabic? He's an idiot."

"He's a good guy."

"He's a boring fuck." Lamis notched Ben against Utari's entrance, the silicone slick with spit and lube. "And you're a liar."

The head pushed inside.

Utari's breath caught. Her pussy stretched around that familiar thickness, walls gripping every inch as Lamis sank deeper.

"Fuck, you're tight." Lamis bottomed out, hips flush against Utari's ass. "Still. After all this time. Your cunt was made for me."

"Lamis—"

"Say it again."

"Lamis—"

"Louder."

Utari's voice broke. "Lamis—"

Her sister pulled back and slammed forward. The bed creaked beneath them. Utari's hands scrambled for purchase—Lamis's shoulders, the headboard, the sheets—anywhere to anchor herself.

"That's it." Lamis set a brutal pace, the curved silicone hitting that spot inside with every thrust. "Take it. Take my cock."

Utari's moans filled the room. She couldn't stop them. Didn't want to.

"Your boyfriend ever fuck you like this?"

"N-no—"

"Ever make you beg?"

"No—"

"Ever make you cum twice before he even gets inside you?"

Utari's vision blurred. "Never—he never—"

"Exactly." Lamis leaned down, biting the curve of Utari's neck. "You need someone who knows what you are. A desperate, dripping, submissive little slut who gets off on being used."

"Yes—God, yes—"

"Mark can't give you that." Another hard thrust. "Only I can."

Utari's legs wrapped around Lamis's waist, pulling her deeper. Her heels dug into the small of her sister's back.

"Don't stop—please don't stop—"

"Wasn't planning on it." Lamis's hand slid between their bodies, finding Utari's clit. "Cum for me. Show me who owns this pussy."

The pressure was too much. The fullness, the friction, the filth spilling from her sister's lips—Utari shattered.

Her orgasm crashed through her, cunt clenching rhythmically around Ben. She cried out, loud enough that their parents might hear, and Lamis clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shh." Lamis kept fucking her through it. "Quiet, baby. Be good for me."

Utari's eyes rolled back. Her body shook. And still, Lamis didn't stop.

"One more," she whispered against Utari's ear. "Give me one more."

"I can't—"

"You can." Lamis's fingers circled her oversensitive clit. "You will."

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Chapter 2: Waiting at the Door

Utari's thighs were still shaking when Lamis pulled away from her completely. The sudden absence of warmth left her feeling hollow, exposed in the darkness of her bedroom. She could feel her own arousal cooling on her skin, the wetness between her legs a testament to what they'd just done.

What she'd let happen. Again.

Lamis sat up on the edge of the bed, her short hair mussed from Utari's desperate gripping. She looked over her shoulder, and even in the dim light filtering through the blinds, Utari could see that familiar crooked smirk playing at her lips.

"I'm going to be a good older sister tonight," Lamis said, her voice low and smooth. "I'm going to give you a choice."

Utari's heart stuttered. "What?"

Lamis stood, the mattress shifting with the movement. She walked toward the bedroom door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. When she reached it, she turned back, one hand resting on the frame.

"I'm going to go get Ben."

The name hit Utari like ice water. Ben. The strap-on. The thick, curved silicone cock that Lamis used on every girl she brought home. The same one she'd used on Utari half a dozen times over the past two years, each time leaving her sore and satisfied in ways Mark never could.

"You keep that thing in your room?" Utari hissed, pushing herself up on trembling elbows. "Mom could find—"

"Hidden in my closet, behind the old shoebox." Lamis's smile widened. "Don't change the subject."

She stepped into the hallway, leaving the door cracked open behind her.

"Here's how this works, little sister. I'm going to walk to my room. I'm going to get Ben. When I come back, if your door is locked, I won't make a scene. I won't ask you to open it. I won't stand outside and beg or threaten or any of that dramatic bullshit. I'll just go back to bed and leave you alone for the night."

Utari's breath caught in her throat.

"But if it's unlocked..." Lamis let the words hang in the air between them. "Well. You already know what happens if it's unlocked."

Then she was gone, her footsteps fading down the hallway toward her room.

Utari sat frozen in the darkness.

Lock the door.

Her brain screamed it at her, loud and urgent. This was her chance. Her opportunity to end this, or at least put a stop to it for tonight. All she had to do was swing her legs over the side of the bed, walk three steps, and turn the lock.

That was it. Three steps. A simple motion. The click of metal against metal, and she'd be safe.

Her body refused to move.

Her thighs still trembled from the two orgasms Lamis had already pulled from her. Her pussy ached, swollen and sensitive, but beneath that sensitivity was a gnawing emptiness. A need that hadn't been filled. Mouth and fingers were one thing, but Ben—

No. She wasn't supposed to want this. She wasn't supposed to crave the feeling of that thick silicone stretching her open, hitting places inside her that Mark's fumbling attempts never reached. She wasn't supposed to get wet at the memory of Lamis fucking her slow and deep while whispering filth in her ear.

She was straight. She had a boyfriend. She went to church. She judged her sister for being a lesbian, for sleeping around, for being so open about her desires.

And yet.

Get up. Lock the door. Prove you're not what she thinks you are.

Her legs swung over the side of the mattress. The carpet was cool against her bare feet. She stood, her knees threatening to buckle, and took one step toward the door.

Then another.

Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against the wood. The door was already cracked open, just an inch or two. All she had to do was push it shut and turn the lock.

Through the gap, she could see the hallway. The dim light from the bathroom at the far end. The shadow of Lamis's door, closed now as her sister retrieved what she'd promised.

Utari's hand trembled against the door frame.

What would Mark think?

The thought made her stomach turn. Mark, who'd fingered her last week like he was trying to check her cervix, who couldn't find her clit with both hands and a map, who thought two minutes of mediocre thrusting was enough to satisfy any woman.

Mark, who she fucked to prove she was normal.

Mark, who had no idea that she came hardest when her sister's hand was wrapped around her throat.

"Fuck," Utari whispered into the darkness.

She could hear Lamis's footsteps returning. Slow. Deliberate. Her sister wasn't rushing. She was giving her time.

Time to choose.

Utari's fingers curled around the edge of the door. She could push it shut. She could turn that lock. She could lie back in bed and pretend she was better than this, that her body didn't burn for something she'd been taught was wrong in every possible way.

Instead, she stepped back.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her thighs pressing together against the ache between them. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat, her wrists, her temples.

The footsteps grew louder.

The door swung open.

Lamis stood in the frame, Ben strapped securely around her hips. The silicone cock jutted out from her body, thick and curved and glistening slightly from what must have been lube she'd already applied. In the moonlight, Utari could see the harness cinched tight around her sister's waist, the adjustable straps framing her hips.

"There's my good girl," Lamis murmured, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She didn't lock it. She didn't need to. "I knew you'd wait for me."

Utari's face burned. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"You didn't lock it." Lamis crossed the room in three strides, standing between Utari's parted knees. She reached down, tilting Utari's chin up with two fingers. "That's the same thing as asking for it, and you know it."

"I hate you."

"You've said that already tonight." Lamis's thumb brushed across Utari's bottom lip. "Doesn't make it true. Doesn't change the fact that your pussy's probably dripping again just looking at Ben."

Utari's eyes dropped involuntarily to the silicone cock. It was a pale flesh color, realistic enough to make her mouth water. The curve of it was designed to hit her G-spot perfectly—a discovery she'd made the first time Lamis had bent her over the bathroom counter and fucked her until she saw stars.

"Look at me."

She dragged her gaze back up to her sister's face. Lamis's expression was smug, but there was something else beneath it. Something darker. Hungrier.

"Mark's coming over tomorrow," Lamis said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're going to smile and play the perfect girlfriend. You're going to let him kiss you and touch you and probably bore you to death with whatever he wants to talk about. But tonight—"

She stepped closer, the silicone cock pressing against Utari's stomach.

"—tonight you're mine. Say it."

Utari's lips parted, but the words caught in her throat. Saying it would make it real. Admitting it out loud would tear down the last flimsy wall she'd built between who she pretended to be and what she actually was.

"Utari." Lamis's grip on her chin tightened slightly. "Say it."

"Tonight I'm yours."

The words came out barely above a whisper, but they echoed in the quiet room like a shout. Lamis's smile turned sharp, predatory.

"Good." She pressed her thumb against Utari's lower lip, pushing it down. "Open your mouth. Get Ben wet for me."

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Chapter 1: Mark Comes to Visit

Utari's back arched off the mattress before her eyes even opened. A hot mouth sealed over her pussy, tongue dragging through her folds with practiced expertise. Her hand flew down, fingers tangling in short, cropped hair.

"Fuck—" The word came out strangled.

Lamis hummed against her, the vibration shooting straight through Utari's core. Those familiar lips curled into a smirk she could feel more than see.

"Been waiting for this all day, haven't you?" Lamis pulled back just enough to speak, breath hot against slick flesh.

"Lamis, we can't—Mom and Dad just went to bed."

"Exactly." Lamis dove back in, tongue circling Utari's clit with maddening pressure. "Which means you need to be quiet for once in your life."

Utari's head fell back against the pillow. Her thighs trembled, fighting between squeezing shut and spreading wider. This was wrong. This had always been wrong. Two years of wrong, ever since Lamis had cornered her in the bathroom after a particularly vicious argument with their parents.

Her sister knew exactly what she was doing. That flat tongue dragging upward, collecting her arousal like honey. Then those lips wrapping around her swollen clit, suckling with just enough pressure to make Utari's vision blur.

"Does that douchebag boyfriend of yours eat you out this good?"

"Lamis—"

"Answer me." A finger pressed against Utari's entrance, circling without pushing inside. "Does he?"

"N-no."

"No what?"

Utari's face burned in the darkness. "No, he doesn't."

Lamis rewarded her by sliding that finger in deep, curling it against the spot that made Utari's breath catch. She added a second, thrusting slowly while her tongue continued its relentless assault on Utari's clit.

"That's what I thought." Lamis's voice was smug, thick with arousal. "You come so fast when I touch you. Bet he doesn't even know where your clit is."

"He—ah!—he tries."

"Tries." Lamis laughed against her pussy. "Does he know you soak through your panties when I walk past your door? Does he know you watch me in the shower?"

"I don't—"

"You do." A third finger joined the first two, stretching Utari open. The obscene squelch of her arousal filled the quiet room. "You think I don't notice? Pretty little straight girl, giving me shit for being a dyke while you're dripping wet watching me soap up."

Tears pricked at Utari's eyes. Shame and pleasure tangled together, inseparable. She hated this. Hated how Lamis made her feel. Hated how her body responded before her mind could catch up.

"Please—"

"Please what?" Lamis's fingers fucked her harder, palm grinding against her clit. "Please stop? Please make you cum? Use your words, baby sister."

Utari's orgasm built like a wave, cresting higher with each thrust. She bit down on her knuckle, trying to muffle the sounds threatening to spill out.

"Your pussy's gripping my fingers so tight." Lamis twisted her wrist, rubbing against that spongy front wall. "You're close. I can feel it."

"Don't—don't say that—"

"What? That you're about to cum on your sister's hand? That you're fucking soaked for me?" Lamis lowered her mouth again, tongue flicking rapidly. "Cum for me, Utari. Show me what a good little slut you are."

The word should have disgusted her. Instead, it tipped her over the edge.

Utari came with a choked moan, body seizing as pleasure crashed through her. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around Lamis's fingers, soaking them with release. Wave after wave pulsed through her, leaving her gasping.

But Lamis didn't stop.

"Wait—Lamis, wait—" Utari tried to pull away, oversensitive and trembling.

"Shh." Lamis grabbed her hip with her free hand, pinning her down. "I'm not done."

Those fingers kept moving, slower now but just as deep. Lamis's tongue gentled to long, lazy strokes that made Utari's legs shake. Every nerve ending screamed, caught between too much and not enough.

"Lamis, please, I can't—"

"You can." Another curl of those fingers. "You will."

Tears spilled down Utari's temples into her hair. Her second orgasm approached like a storm she couldn't outrun, building from somewhere deep inside.

"You give me so much shit, you know that?" Lamis's voice was conversational, like she wasn't currently finger-fucking her sister toward another climax. "Calling me disgusting. Saying I'm going to hell. And every time, I just think about how pretty you look when you cum on my tongue."

"I hate you."

"I know." Lamis sucked her clit, hard. "Hate me all you want. Your pussy doesn't."

The second orgasm tore through her without warning. Utari's mouth fell open in a silent scream, body bowing off the bed. Lamis worked her through it, fingers still thrusting, mouth still devouring.

When it finally stopped, Utari lay there shaking. Her thighs were drenched. Her chest heaved with desperate breaths.

Lamis withdrew her fingers slowly, making sure Utari felt every inch leaving her body. Then she crawled up the bed, settling beside her sister.

"Look at me."

Utari kept her eyes closed.

"Utari." A wet finger pressed against her bottom lip. "Taste yourself."

Her eyes flew open. Lamis hovered inches away, those sharp features she'd been mocked for her whole life somehow beautiful in the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"You said you hated being gay almost as much as you hated incest."

Utari's stomach dropped. "When did I—"

"Family dinner. Last month. You and Mom were going off about how unnatural it is." Lamis smiled, all teeth. "I had my hand in your panties twenty minutes later."

"Someone could have—"

"They didn't." Lamis pressed her fingers past Utari's lips. "Suck."

The taste of herself filled her mouth. Salt and musk and something undeniably her. Undeniably aroused.

"You're so good when you shut up." Lamis withdrew her fingers, wiping them on Utari's thigh. "Mark's coming over tomorrow, right? Your douchebag boyfriend?"

Utari's heart sank. "Yeah."

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Chapter 2

It's the morning at breakfast, there parents are giving Lamis shit. While utari can't look at her because of last night. Lamis make gestures and remakes that only Utari understands, causing her stomach to flip as she blushes and looks away. Their parent talk About maybe Lamis needs the right guy in her life, Lamis roles her eyes. Then says 'I thought you guys liked Ashley', the girl she had over yesterday before entering Utari's room. Their parents talk about how ashley is the eighth girl this week Lamis has had over.

Chapter 1

Story starts with Utari in her bed being eaten out, but it's not her boyfriend. That's when the reader finds out it's her sister, Lamis. Who snuck in after there parents went to bed. Then they are told this relationship is started a year or two ago ( yes they were both legal). Where Lamis noticed how submissive Utari was during confrontations. Even thought Utari would bark, her body would whimper. Lamis constantly teasing Utari while she's eating her out. Asking 'were you waiting for this all day', 'Does your douchbag boyfriend eat you out this good?', 'It's weird how you give me shit for being a lesbian but here you are.

[First]

Lamis and Utari are sisters, Lamis is three years older. Lamis(a tomboy) is openly a lesbian(butch) and Utari (the girl next door vibe/look) isn't, one at all. Lesbians aren't liked, Thus Lamis gets a lot of shit for it. From everyone including her parents. Yet Lamis is never short on girl to "play' with, which their parents like even less. Utari also gives her sister shit for being a lesbian and sleeping around. Yet Lamis finds it funny.

Because Lamis and Utari have been actively fucking for a WHILE. Which is weird since she has a boyfriend, who also gives Lamis shit. However he's kinda a douche. Him and Lamis fight often, No one knows Lamis and Utari fuck, because It's a dub-con story, that's also an ntr.

Utari has to hide hickeyes from her parents and her boyfriend. One time Lamis was fingering Utari under the blanket during family movie night and she had to pretend she was sick. She had to take disgusting medicine for a week. Another time lamis was fucking her with a dildo and her boyfriend called. Lamis answer it and give it to her, before Utari could react. What's even worse is Lamis wouldn't stop. Utari hates the fact Lamis is a lesbian, she hates the fact they're doing this. incest is only second to being gay in her eyes.

But she can't get over how Lamis makes her body feel.
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Chapter 2: Afternoon Visitor, Evening Trap

Utari couldn't eat. Her toast sat untouched on the plate, butter melting into a yellow puddle that she stared at like it held the secrets of the universe. Every time she tried to lift her gaze, it caught on Lamis across the table and skittered away like a frightened animal.

Her sister looked good. Unfairly good. Rested and smug with her short hair still damp from the shower, wearing that oversized band t-shirt she'd stolen from Utari's closet two years ago. The neckline gaped when she leaned forward, revealing the sharp line of her collarbone.

"You're not eating, honey." Mom's voice cut through the thick silence. "Feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." The words scraped past the lump in her throat. "Just not hungry."

Lamis's spoon clinked against her cereal bowl. Deliberately. When Utari risked a glance, her sister was watching her with those dark eyes, lips curved around the spoon as she pulled it free.

Slowly.

Utari's face burned. She looked back at her toast.

"She's probably tired," Lamis said, voice light and conversational. "She was up pretty late last night. I heard her through the walls."

Mom's eyebrows drew together. "Everything alright, sweetheart? Bad dreams?"

"Something like that." Lamis took another bite of cereal, chewing with exaggerated slowness. "She kept making these little sounds. Like she couldn't get comfortable."

The fork. Utari's hand tightened around her fork until her knuckles went white. Beneath the table, her thighs pressed together without her permission, the ache from last night still present. Sore in a way that reminded her with every movement of exactly what had happened.

"Dad, pass the orange juice?" Her voice came out too high. She cleared her throat. "Please."

He handed it over without looking up from his newspaper. "Your mother asked you a question, Utari. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. Just—" She poured juice into her glass, concentrating on the amber liquid. "Just didn't sleep well."

"She does that sometimes." Lamis swirled her spoon through the cereal, milk sloshing against the sides of the bowl. "Gets all restless. Can't stay still. Needs help settling down."

Mom turned to Lamis, exasperation replacing her concern for Utari. "Speaking of settling down, when is that Ashley girl leaving? She's been over for two days now."

"Yesterday, Mom. She left yesterday evening." Lamis shrugged. "You were at bridge club."

"She's the eighth girl this week, Lamis." Dad's voice carried the familiar weight of disappointment. "Eighth. It's only Thursday."

"Technically it's five." Lamis grabbed the milk, refilling her bowl. "Ashley stayed overnight, so she counts for two days. And Tina only came by to return my jacket."

"That doesn't make it better." Mom sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Your father and I have talked about this. Maybe if you found the right person—"

"The right guy," Dad interrupted. "A nice man who could set you straight. No pun intended."

Utari flinched at the phrase. Set you straight. If only they knew how their other daughter spent her nights. How she'd begged just hours ago.

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?" Lamis's tone remained casual. "I thought you guys liked Ashley. She's pre-law. Comes from a good family. Even goes to church."

"Church doesn't matter if she's leading you into sin." Mom's voice dropped. "Every week it's someone new. Every week we have to explain to the neighbors, to our friends—"

"Explain what?" Lamis leaned back. "That your daughter actually has a dating life? That more than one person wants to sleep with her?"

"Lamis." Dad's voice sharpened. "That's enough."

"I'm just saying." She gestured with her spoon, milk dripping onto the table. "Utari's been with Mark for what, six months now? And before that it was what's-his-name, Derek? For like a year? But we're worried about my reputation?"

There it was. The trap, laid perfectly. Utari's stomach lurched.

"Utari has nothing to do with this conversation." Mom reached across to pat Utari's hand. "She's found someone appropriate. Someone who treats her well. We just want the same for you."

Mark. The thought of him made something twist in Utari's chest. He was coming over today. In a few hours he'd be sitting in her living room, shaking her father's hand, asking about her week.

Would he notice something different about her? Could he tell that she'd been stretched open by someone else's fingers? That she'd come so hard she'd cried?

"Does she?" Lamis's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Does Mark really treat her well?"

"Of course he does." Mom frowned. "Why would you say that?"

"No reason." Lamis's eyes fixed on Utari. "I just wonder sometimes if he gives her what she really needs."

Heat flooded Utari's face. She grabbed her glass, drinking the juice too fast, some of it dribbling down her chin. She swiped at it with the back of her hand.

"You've got a little—" Lamis pointed at her own chin. "Right there."

"I know." The words came out sharp. Harsher than she intended.

Mom blinked at her. "Utari, honey, are you sure you're feeling okay? You've been jumpy all morning."

"I said I'm fine."

"Maybe you're coming down with something." Dad peered over his newspaper. "You look flushed."

"Must be the weather." Lamis smiled. "It got pretty hot in here last night."

The world tilted. Utari shoved back from the table, chair scraping against the floor. "I need to use the bathroom."

She didn't wait for a response. Her legs carried her down the hallway on autopilot, her heart pounding with every step. The bathroom door locked behind her with a click that did nothing to calm her racing pulse.

She gripped the edges of the sink, staring at her reflection. Flushed cheeks. Glassy eyes. The face of someone who'd been thoroughly fucked and couldn't stop thinking about it.

Hate me all you want. Your pussy doesn't.

Her thighs trembled. The memory of those fingers inside her, hitting that spot that Mark couldn't find, wouldn't ever find, because he didn't know her body the way Lamis did.

Six months. She'd been with Mark for six months and he still fumbled in the dark like a teenager.

A soft knock. "Utari?"

Her sister's voice through the door.

"Go away."

"Mom sent me to check on you." A pause. "She thinks you're sick."

"I'm not sick."

"Then let me in."

Utari's hand hovered over the lock. Don't. But her fingers moved anyway, undoing the latch before her brain could catch up.

Lamis slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Locking it.

The bathroom suddenly felt smaller. The air thicker. Lamis leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching Utari with that knowing expression.

"You're a mess this morning."

"Because of you."

"Because you can't handle yourself." Lamis pushed off from the door, closing the distance between them. "Six months with that idiot and you still come like a virgin when I touch you."

"Shut up."

"Make me." Those dark eyes dropped to Utari's mouth. "Oh wait. You'd rather pretend you hate this."

"I do hate this."

Lamis laughed. Soft and cruel. "Your body tells a different story." She reached out, fingers brushing Utari's hip through her pajama pants. "I can see it in the way you're standing. Legs pressed together. Trying to squeeze away the ache."

Utari stepped back, hitting the sink. "Someone could come."

"They won't. Mom's doing dishes. Dad's reading." Lamis advanced. "We have at least five minutes."

"Five minutes to do what?"

"Nothing." That hand slid higher, resting on Utari's ribcage. "Just making a point."

"What point?"

"That you're already wet."

The words hit her like ice water. Because she was. Had been since she sat down at that table and saw the way Lamis's mouth moved.

"Mark's coming over today." Lamis's thumb traced circles through the thin fabric. "Are you going to fuck him?"

"That's none of your business."

"Everything you do is my business." She leaned closer. "I'm going to think about you two together. Him trying so hard to make you feel good. And you, lying there, wishing it was my mouth instead."

"Lamis—"

"Thinking about my tongue. My fingers." Her breath was hot against Utari's ear. "Wishing he'd just disappear so you could sneak into my room."

Utari's hands found the counter behind her, gripping hard enough that the metal dug into her palms. Her body wanted to lean in. To close the gap. To beg.

I hate you.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"I know." Lamis pulled back, the loss of warmth immediate. "Remember. Window unlocked. Or don't. Either way, I'm getting what I want tonight."

She was at the door before Utari could respond. Hand on the lock.

"Lamis."

Her sister paused, glancing back with one eyebrow raised.

Utari swallowed. Her throat felt dry. "What if I don't?"

"Then you'll spend all night wet and desperate, knowing I'm right down the hall." Her smile turned sharp. "You'll break eventually. You always do."

The door opened. Closed. And Utari was alone again.

She stared at her reflection. At the face she barely recognized. Six months with Mark. Six months of pretending to be normal. Six months of ignoring the truth.

She reached for the faucet, splashing cold water on her face. It did nothing to cool the heat burning through her.

Breakfast. She had to get back to breakfast. Had to sit through the rest of the meal. Had to smile when Mark arrived.

Had to act like her sister hadn't just mapped out exactly how pathetic she was.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Lamis was back at the table, eating like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just cornered Utari in their bathroom and threatened her with another night.

Mom looked up. "Feel better, honey?"

"Much." Utari slid into her seat. Picked up her toast. Took a bite that tasted like cardboard.

"Good." Mom turned back to Lamis. "Now, about that conversion therapy program I mentioned—"

"Mom." Lamis rolled her eyes. "We talked about this."

"I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy." Her eyes flickered to Utari. "Happier than you know."

The weight of that gaze pressed against Utari's skin. She chewed. Swallowed. Drank her juice. Tried not to think about tonight.

About Mark's hands on her body.

About her sister watching from the shadows.

About how badly she wanted the window unlocked.

An hour. Mark would be here in an hour.

And Utari had no idea how she would survive it.

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Chapter 1: Mark Comes to Visit

Utari's back arched off the mattress before her eyes even opened. A hot mouth sealed over her pussy, tongue dragging through her folds with practiced expertise. Her hand flew down, fingers tangling in short, cropped hair.

"Fuck—" The word came out strangled.

Lamis hummed against her, the vibration shooting straight through Utari's core. Those familiar lips curled into a smirk she could feel more than see.

"Been waiting for this all day, haven't you?" Lamis pulled back just enough to speak, breath hot against slick flesh.

"Lamis, we can't—Mom and Dad just went to bed."

"Exactly." Lamis dove back in, tongue circling Utari's clit with maddening pressure. "Which means you need to be quiet for once in your life."

Utari's head fell back against the pillow. Her thighs trembled, fighting between squeezing shut and spreading wider. This was wrong. This had always been wrong. Two years of wrong, ever since Lamis had cornered her in the bathroom after a particularly vicious argument with their parents.

Her sister knew exactly what she was doing. That flat tongue dragging upward, collecting her arousal like honey. Then those lips wrapping around her swollen clit, suckling with just enough pressure to make Utari's vision blur.

"Does that douchebag boyfriend of yours eat you out this good?"

"Lamis—"

"Answer me." A finger pressed against Utari's entrance, circling without pushing inside. "Does he?"

"N-no."

"No what?"

Utari's face burned in the darkness. "No, he doesn't."

Lamis rewarded her by sliding that finger in deep, curling it against the spot that made Utari's breath catch. She added a second, thrusting slowly while her tongue continued its relentless assault on Utari's clit.

"That's what I thought." Lamis's voice was smug, thick with arousal. "You come so fast when I touch you. Bet he doesn't even know where your clit is."

"He—ah!—he tries."

"Tries." Lamis laughed against her pussy. "Does he know you soak through your panties when I walk past your door? Does he know you watch me in the shower?"

"I don't—"

"You do." A third finger joined the first two, stretching Utari open. The obscene squelch of her arousal filled the quiet room. "You think I don't notice? Pretty little straight girl, giving me shit for being a dyke while you're dripping wet watching me soap up."

Tears pricked at Utari's eyes. Shame and pleasure tangled together, inseparable. She hated this. Hated how Lamis made her feel. Hated how her body responded before her mind could catch up.

"Please—"

"Please what?" Lamis's fingers fucked her harder, palm grinding against her clit. "Please stop? Please make you cum? Use your words, baby sister."

Utari's orgasm built like a wave, cresting higher with each thrust. She bit down on her knuckle, trying to muffle the sounds threatening to spill out.

"Your pussy's gripping my fingers so tight." Lamis twisted her wrist, rubbing against that spongy front wall. "You're close. I can feel it."

"Don't—don't say that—"

"What? That you're about to cum on your sister's hand? That you're fucking soaked for me?" Lamis lowered her mouth again, tongue flicking rapidly. "Cum for me, Utari. Show me what a good little slut you are."

The word should have disgusted her. Instead, it tipped her over the edge.

Utari came with a choked moan, body seizing as pleasure crashed through her. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around Lamis's fingers, soaking them with release. Wave after wave pulsed through her, leaving her gasping.

But Lamis didn't stop.

"Wait—Lamis, wait—" Utari tried to pull away, oversensitive and trembling.

"Shh." Lamis grabbed her hip with her free hand, pinning her down. "I'm not done."

Those fingers kept moving, slower now but just as deep. Lamis's tongue gentled to long, lazy strokes that made Utari's legs shake. Every nerve ending screamed, caught between too much and not enough.

"Lamis, please, I can't—"

"You can." Another curl of those fingers. "You will."

Tears spilled down Utari's temples into her hair. Her second orgasm approached like a storm she couldn't outrun, building from somewhere deep inside.

"You give me so much shit, you know that?" Lamis's voice was conversational, like she wasn't currently finger-fucking her sister toward another climax. "Calling me disgusting. Saying I'm going to hell. And every time, I just think about how pretty you look when you cum on my tongue."

"I hate you."

"I know." Lamis sucked her clit, hard. "Hate me all you want. Your pussy doesn't."

The second orgasm tore through her without warning. Utari's mouth fell open in a silent scream, body bowing off the bed. Lamis worked her through it, fingers still thrusting, mouth still devouring.

When it finally stopped, Utari lay there shaking. Her thighs were drenched. Her chest heaved with desperate breaths.

Lamis withdrew her fingers slowly, making sure Utari felt every inch leaving her body. Then she crawled up the bed, settling beside her sister.

"Look at me."

Utari kept her eyes closed.

"Utari." A wet finger pressed against her bottom lip. "Taste yourself."

Her eyes flew open. Lamis hovered inches away, those sharp features she'd been mocked for her whole life somehow beautiful in the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"You said you hated being gay almost as much as you hated incest."

Utari's stomach dropped. "When did I—"

"Family dinner. Last month. You and Mom were going off about how unnatural it is." Lamis smiled, all teeth. "I had my hand in your panties twenty minutes later."

"Someone could have—"

"They didn't." Lamis pressed her fingers past Utari's lips. "Suck."

The taste of herself filled her mouth. Salt and musk and something undeniably her. Undeniably aroused.

"You're so good when you shut up." Lamis withdrew her fingers, wiping them on Utari's thigh. "Mark's coming over tomorrow, right? Your douchebag boyfriend?"

Utari's heart sank. "Yeah."

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